Please, don't give me time to think
by Lilith Encodead
Summary: Emily is happy in the underworld, performing regularly with Bonejangles at the Ball and Socket pub. Victor is not so happy, so he sneaks down to the Land of the Dead to see Emily performing, and it leaves an imprint on him V/E
1. Fine and Free

Chapter 1

As Emily made her way to the ball and socket she began to reflect, she hadn't had much time to think lately. It had been two months since Emily had "let Victor go". And she had never been happier. The confines of the underworld seemed so much more open. The dark mass of roots that had replaced the ever-changing skies of the land of the living; seemed no longer restricted her. She felt free. Only when she had left the land of the living for the second and final time, had she truly felt dead. No, that doesn't sound right. When you hear the word _dead_ you think of darkness and rotting. Emily hadn't felt dark in a long time. She felt bright and weightless. Emily often danced through the land of the dead, breezing through the streets of the deceased, like a brief ray of light passing over a dimly lit room.

On her second attempt at a wedding night Emily had reunited most of the inhabitants of the land of the dead with their living loved ones upstairs: and they were eternally grateful to her. When ever Emily went out around town she was guaranteed a warm smile from anyone.

"They were so happy to see their loved ones up in the land of the living." thought Emily as she made her way down the stairs into the Ball and Socket, with a spring in her step. She made her way over to the bar and sat down on one of the toad-stool bar-stools; absent-mindedly slinging her long wedding dress trail around her legs, so no one would trip on it. Emily wondered if such a reunion between the living and the dead would ever repeat itself: and if so…Would Victor run out into the street, hoping to see her and only her, forgetting all _other_ women. Emily shook her head and shuffled her thoughts, hoping that that one would get lodged at the back of her mind.

A new thought submerged at the front of her mind: what she and Bonejangles would perform tonight. She and Bonejangles had formed a brilliant musical duo. They performed often at the Ball and Socket. They had no fixed singer; the two would swap between piano and vocals for each song. Bonejangles was one of the most renowned showmen of their part of the underworld, and rightly so. No one could shove as much enthusiasm into their performances as him. But each and every time Emily performed she bore her soul to the audience; they would wait with baited breath (yes, I know they can't breath…) for Emily's stunning vocal performances. Her songs would inspire great emotion into the whole room; be it despair or complete happiness. Any one who said that the preferred Bonejangles' songs to Emily's only did so out of their loyalty to him.

Emily hadn't been sure at first about performing. She had wanted to contemplate every thing that had happened: not just the realisation that Barkiss had murdered her, but the look on Victor's face as she left him with Victoria in the church. It was a look of total despair. Why did he look so sad? Was it because he was sad to see her go? Or was it because he was sad to be left behind?

_But _she had had no time to ponder such things! She had been thrust into the lime light by Bonejangles. So, instead of asking herself (or attempting to ask Victor) her burning questions, she had asked her audiences through the medium of music. The root meanings of all her songs were all (pretty much) the same: "Did I make the right choice?" But it was cleverly hidden, and often misinterpreted. "But is that a good thing…?" thought Emily.

Suddenly_, _a pair of bony fingers clicked in front of her eyes. Immediately everything in the pub felt solid and full, as Emily awoke from her daze.

"Hey, Emily, are you in there, doll?"

"Sorry!" smiled Emily, composing herself.

"It's alrigh' Emily" said Bonejangles dismissively leaning on the bar "I just wanted to make a few changes to tonight's set-list"

"Mm-hm?" Emily studied him curiously; they hardly ever stuck to the set-list anyway, they played what ever songs they felt like. ( the list was more to remind them of the publics favourites)

"C'n we scratch my last three numbers? I've got places I gotta be"

Whilst Bonejangles spoke he didn't look Emily in the eye. Instead he looked just past her right ear. This was almost expected in a crowd of people, but the pub was quite empty. Emily knew that he was hiding something.

"Where?" asked Emily, looking at him intently with a curios expression on her face.

"Jus' with some old friends" he replied, his one shrivelled eye darting about the room, looking anywhere but at Emily.

"But…." she looked nervous. She didn't like the idea of being stranded, on stage, with three songs to do and no one to accompany her.

This somehow, made Bonejangles more confident.

"Their jus' some old friends who don't know the town very well" he said calmly. Emily opened her mouth to protest, but he abruptly cut across her, "Would you rather I left them out 'n the cold to be here with ya?"

"No! you know that's not-" Emily sighed " I just don't know if I can perform as well- if at all, on my own" she said helplessly.

Bonejangles looked her straight in the face as he put a comforting hand on her skinny shoulder. " come on Emily, everyone knows you can hold a crowd better than any one else roun' hear."

And before Emily could disagree Bonejangles was bounding up the stairs and out of the pub. Emily watched the doors flap for a bit, and then sighed. Why did people always abandon her? "Maybe you're just _really _abandonable?" said a voice in her head. It had the voice of a maggot she had once known; but it wasn't him. He'd moved to live with the black widow spider. Emily thought it was a strange partnership, even for the underworld. "Not as strange as a living boy marring a dead woman" said the voice again, a little sharply.

"Oh, shut up" said Emily aloud as she shoved the voice right to the back of her mind; to reside with the thoughts of Victor.


	2. Mysterious findings in Victor's laundry

**Chapter 2**

Victoria was collecting hers and Victor's laundry from their wardrobe on a cold December afternoon. She shuddered as she felt the icy air drift past her ankles. If she was still at home she wouldn't be doing house work, but she'd be in front of a warm fire sewing or reading a book. But she couldn't: She had been forced to move to the Van Dort residence by her parents, who deemed her an unsuitable wife for any wealthy gentleman they could… sell her to. That was what they had tried to do, after all. They also thought he insane ( Victoria chuckled bitterly to that ) It upset Victoria very much that she didn't have a loving relationship with her parents. She still loved her parents, but she was sure that she would never thank them for her strict upbringing. Her parents refused to believe that the dead had visited the land of the living. They also thought that anyone who disagreed with them was mad. ( which was most of the community) Her parents were social outcasts; and Victoria was _still_ unmarried to Victor, which made her social position rather unstable. Victor and Victoria slept in separate beds, seldom spoke to each other, and when they did speak to each other it was awkward.

Victor did try, bless him. But he stuttered, and seemed to be deeply afraid of eye contact. It had been endearing at first; but now it just made the conversation more strainuse for Victoria: Why was he so nervous when he spoke to her? They were planning to get married for god's sake! The least they should be able to do was talk. it made Victoria want to scream. She had never once screamed in her whole life. The day Victoria screamed would be the day she had truly been driven insane. She heaved a sigh as she shut the doors of the dark wooden wardrobe. She had managed to have one conversation with Victor: he had been complaining about his work. He was complaining about working at his fathers fish mongers, and how he hated to cut off the heads of the fish wile they were still looking at him. But during that brief conversation Victoria had felt more like Victor's shrink than his wife.

Victoria moved on to the chest of draws.

Victoria couldn't stand Victor's parents either: his father kept Victor at work all day ( which meant that he and Victoria had minimal time together ) And his other was _such_ a nag; she was constantly complaining the household hadn't enough money when they had sufficient funds; she was always fussing over Victor and Victoria's health and appearance. But her most annoying trait was that she would gossip constantly about the rest of the village. Maybe it was the upper class in Victoria, but she really thought, with out question, that Nell Van Dort was the most common person she had ever-

Victoria yanked a white sheet that was stuck at the back of the drawer; as she did so she herd a loud "ca-dunk". Victoria pulled the draw out of its shelf and saw a large grey speckled egg rolling towards her. She lifted the egg out of the draw, sat down on the bed and inspected the strange egg:

Their was a rather grubby scrap of silk wrapped around it. The silk held two pieces of paper to the egg; one was a flier for a pub called the "Ball and Socket". The flier as printed on thick dark purple paper and had bold swirled script on it. Victoria read through the flier:

_Come to the Ball and Socket to see some of the hottest bands on the underworld circuit!_

_Featured bands include:_

_The Dogbones,_

_The 7 bone band,_

_Mystic Unorthodox _

_And Bonejangles & the Corpse Bride_

The flier then went on to advertise catering and other entertainment that the pub had to offer; but Victoria was more concerned with the illustration down the edge of the paper: it depicted a skeleton with a crooked neck and a bowler hat, standing beside an all too familiar female corpse. Her right arm was skeletal, as was her left leg. Her ribs shone through a tattered wedding dress and she had a large hole in her right cheek. Her wide eyes stared out of the flier and at Victoria.

Victoria slowly lowered the flier and placed it on her lap, her eyes transfixed on the woman's face. Victoria felt empty, except for the feeling of shock, or was it dread? Why had Victor kept this from her? She then examined the other peace of paper. It was an ancient looking peace of parchment rolled into a scroll. She unrafeled the scroll with shakey hands. What was she to hope it said on the parchment? She could think of nothing good it could say.


	3. Time to change

Chapter 3

Emily walked home in rather a grumpy mood. She had to get ready for her _solo _gig tonight; How could Bonejangles leave her in the lurch like this? Who or what could be more important to Bonejangles than a gig? A girl? That was likely,but the best way for Bonejangles to impress a girl was to perform in front of her, _on stage, where he was meant__ to be!_

Emily walked more briskly. She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn't help it; she was worried. Everyone _said_ she was a good performer, but what if they were just being polite? "Maybe I should just leave with Bonejangles and meet these all important friends of his," thought Emily as she walked to Elder Gutknecht's tower. She looked around at the houses of the underworld. They had so many layers of peeled paint, it looked like flesh rotting off bone. Emily looked up to where the sky should be, and saw the dark mass of twisted roots: they seemed lower than ever. "How could I have been so happy this morning and so down now?" thought Emily as her pace began to slow and her head began to droop.

But then came the sound of barks. High pitched barks. Emily knew that it was Scraps, he'd be waiting outside her door. Emily's house was in Elder Gutknecht's basement. She quickened her pace and rushed to her door to see Scraps scratching at the wood of the door and whining. Scraps was really quite a small dog; and though his face was fixed to one expression he could still convey a great deal of emotion. Emily's door was coffin shaped (recycling of the underworld) and painted red. A wire lamp hung out side the door emitting an orange glow.

"Alright, alright" said Emily with a smile as she opened the door for a grateful Scraps who sprinted around the room and barked happily. Scraps often cheered Emily up; she wasn't sure why.

Emily walked over to her coffin bed with the rather worn red lining. She knelt down on her bony nee and reached under the bed. She brought out a cardboard dress box with the black widow's clothing mark on it. The logo was a intricate spider with spindly legs above the initials B.W.C. Emily lifted the lid off of the box to revel the most splendid dress. She unfolded it and stood in front of the mirror; she held the dress to her slender frame and examined herself:

The dress was truly magnificent. Spider woven, obviously. It was long but it wouldn't trail along the floor like her wedding dress. It was a deep dark Sapphire blue; the torso of the dress was darker than the skirt, and the material was scrunched like tight curtains. The skirt was layered; there were two layers of silk and the top layer was a dark night sky blue netting. The rim of the bust was lined with dull moon stones that didn't catch the light very well. The sleeves were flimsy loops of material that were purely for decoration. It was a fitted elegant dress.

The night that Emily had returned to the land of the dead with no husband; the staff of the Ball and Socket donated and collected money to buy her a new dress. "I wonder if they thought it would help me to move on," thought Emily as she contemplated whether to change her cloths for the first time in her afterlife.

Emily sighed and looked at Scraps who was asleep on her bed. Suddenly her fathers voice spoke in her head: "Victor will never marry you, sweet heart. No one is ever going to marry you. You need to stop hiding in a shroud of broken dreams and show everyone. Show everyone that you are not 'the Corpse Bride'. You are Emily and you are not broken"

She hadn't thought of her father in the longest time: before, she had often wondered what would have happened if she had listened to her father's advice. She would almost surely still be alive. Emily knew what she was going to do. She would accept everything and perform on her own. She striped off her wedding dress. It fell pitifully to the ground with a cloud of dust. It felt strange, like taking off a layer of dead skin. She had been wearing that old dress for years; it had looked so beautiful when she had first put it on. She had walked to the woods in a stolen wedding dress, ready to give her heart and soul to someone; and had remained in that state for far to long, but decayed all the same.

Emily did not carry on feeling nostalgic. She stepped in to the new blue dress: it fitted perfectly. She then stepped into a simple pair of black shoes with rhinestone buckles. Emily stepped towards the mirror and spun in front of it. She giggled with delight as she examined herself. Emily had quite forgot the joys of dressing up. She took off her veil and tossed it on the floor; she set to examining her hair: the mass of tangled curls and dreadlocks would be a challenge to style, and she couldn't cut it because it would never grow back. Emily (reluctantly) decided to admit defeat and leave her hair how it was.

"What do you think Scraps?" asked Emily, opening her arms wide and twirling round for the skeletal dog.

Scraps gave a little whine and tilted his head.

"Hmmm, you're right…" said Emily as she studied herself in the mirror once again "I'm missing something…"

Emily gave her hair a filthy look, as to say: "why do you have to be so difficult?"

"ah-ha!" exclaimed Emily. She rushed over to her bed and picked up a bowl of dried roses and rose buds. She tied some of the dried flowers in her hair and looked herself over in the mirror, yet again. Pleased with the effect, she turned to Scraps and said:

"What about now?"

Scraps made the same whining nose as before.

"Ugh, well now you're just being picky,"

Emily rushed to the door to leave, then turned back,

"Don't you want to see me perform?"

Scraps jumped off of the bed and barked enthusiastically; he then ran around Emily's legs until she opened the door. They both bounded out of the door and into the street. Emily danced in the open street, gradually making her way to the Ball and Socket. Scraps' barks echoed through the town of the dead as if to call out:

"New arrival!"


	4. Lying to Victoria

**Chapter 4**

Victoria read through the parchment many times. It was a short letter from a Mr Bonejangles. The handwriting was rather untidy and the ink was very thick and blotchy; but Victoria managed to read it without too much effort:

_Dear Victor,_

_I am writing to you to tell you how Emily is doing. If you want to know then I suggest you come down here and see her! Her and I have been performing together at the Ball and Socket for a short while and she as already made a name for herself. We will be performing on the 16__th__ of December and I know she'd love it if you could come and see her on stage._

_It took all of my powers of persuasion to get Elder Gutknecht to give me that egg ( he wouldn't even tell me how it works!) so use it wisely. _

_Bonejangles,_

_PS _

_I hope Elder Gutknecht wasn't lying when he said you knew how to use that thing._

Victoria wasn't sure how to react: Emily hadn't sent the letter, so it wasn't like the two of them had been going behind her back, sending each other love letters. But Victor hadn't told her about the letter, why?

Victoria's mind was working too quickly as it churned out numerous possibilities, as to why Victor wouldn't tell her about the letter and the mysterious egg. She also wondered how best to confront Victor; she came to three conclusions:

1) She would ask him directly when he got home from work.

2) She would hide the letter and the egg.

3) Simply ask him to be somewhere else on the 16th of December.

Victoria sat in hers and Victor's room for a while, contemplating her decision. She heard the front door open; Nell had arrived home early. Victoria quickly bundled the egg and the scraps of paper back into the far corner of the drawer. Gathered up the washing in her basket and made her way down the stairs. Victoria made her way down the corridor and in to the kitchen where Nell Van Dort sat at the narrow table eyeing up a heavily iced cake.

"ah, hello Victoria. I thought that you'd have finished that by now" said Nell looking as the basket of washing.

"Victor had more washing than I'd thought," said Victoria in a distant voice.

"Make up a pot of tea dear," said Nell with a greedy expression on her face " you'll never guess what I heard about the Johnstones across the road…"

Victoria rolled her eyes and started to boil some water. As she did so she made plans for the 16th of December, she was sure it was tomorrow.

* * *

Victor arrived home slightly late that evening. When he walked trough the door he looked terrible; his slim body looked as if it was drooping under the weight of his head. His eyes had heavy bags under them and his complexion looked paler than ever. He heaved himself through the hall and into the kitchen, where he collapsed into the nearest chair. He knelt back and flopped his arm over his eyes. His legs were sprawled under the table and he was breathing heavily.

"Victor?" Victoria knelt beside him and placed a fresh cup of tea on the table, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," said Victor with a smile as he removed his forearm from his tired looking eyes "just exhausted." his gaze landed on the cup of tea on the table "Thank you,"

"They overwork you at that shop" said Victoria pulling up a chair " I wonde-"

Victoria was cut off by the sound of Victor choking on hot tea. There were a few moments of coughing and spluttering until he managed to compose himself.

"go…go on" said Victor with a scolded throat.

Victoria gave him a concerned look, her train of thought had completely slipped away from her.

"Well, I was…um… I was wondering if you could get a day off work tomorrow" said Victoria, giving victor a sweet smile "…we could have a picnic or something."

Victor gave a faint smile "Yes, it was about time my father gave me some time off work. We could go to the library as well, to get some poetry books"

Victoria's face lit up, " Oh, Victor that would be wonderful!"

Victor looked a little taken aback by Victoria's enthusiasm. But Victoria didn't care; Victor was willingly going to take her out! And he wasn't stuttering when he spoke to her. He hadn't even stopped to think about what _other_ plans he might have tomorrow.

Victor was blinking at her.

"Are you alright Victoria?"

"Yes I'm fine" said Victoria restraining her excitement, " Are you sure you're not busy tomorrow?"

"Yes, well, providing that my parents let me have the day off," Victor wrapped his hands around his warm tea cup " I was thinking that I haven't practiced my piano playing in a while either."

" Yes I thought that too" said Victoria beginning to relax, " You haven't done many drawings lately either"

"Hmm…" Victor began to stare into space, looking content. They remained like this for a few moments.

"Oh God!" said Victor suddenly, making Victoria jump.

"What?" said Victoria, startled.

" I forgot to lock the shop anyone, could get in." said Victor rising from his chair.

"But Victor…" said Victoria impatiently, but victor was already racing down the hall and rummaging through the coat hooks.

"Bu-…Victor who is going to want to steal a load of mangy fish heads anyway." said Victoria in irritated tones masked by concern.

" I think a true thief..," started Victor still searching through the coats, "..would be more concerned with the money in the till Victoria," he gave the coats a frustrated jerk

" Gosh, my coat isn't hear…must be upstairs…" Victor ran up the stairs two steps at a time, leaving Victoria in the hall.

Victor stumbled back down the stairs a moment later (rather ungracefully) with a long black coat on and a worn green velvet bag over his shoulder. Victoria stood in the hall looking unhappy as she tidied the coats. She spun round swiftly to she Victor heading for the door.

"Wait, Victor, let me come with you," she said grabbing his wrist, she eyed him suspiciously "Why do you need your art bag?"

"Victoria, it's the only bag I have: I've got some cleaning things in it" said Victor staring at her hand that was still holding his wrist tightly. Victoria loosened her grip and Victor slid his arm out of it, looking offended.

"Victor, I'm so-" began Victoria awkwardly, "Why do you need cleaning things?"

"To tidy up if their's been a break in, what else?" said Victor calmly, "Victoria, Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine…" said Victoria, backing away to give Victor some space.

Victor now looked concerned, even guilty.

"Victoria…"

"Just sort things out at the shop," said Victoria with a forced smile, "It can't take too long, can it?"

"No I wont be long," said Victor softly "I'll see you later,"

"Bye,"

Victor closed the door with a soft click, leaving Victoria alone in the house. Mr and Mrs Van Dort would be back soon, so Victoria went to check if the dinner was done cooking. She saw that it was best part done and began to set the table, feeling strangely empty. Victoria could hear the wind sweeping around the house, as if it were trying to knock it down. Her eyes fell on the calendar next to the doorframe. Her jaw dropped. She had got the date wrong. Today was the 16th of November. Victoria very nearly dropped the plates she was carrying. She shakily placed them on the table and rushed up the stairs and into hers and Victor's room. She staggered across the room and pulled out the drawer that she had thrown the egg and the letters in to, they were gone. Victoria opened the curtains and looked out of the window, out to the street, it was dark and empty. She looked over to the fish mongers; the lights were off and the door was firmly shut. There was no sign of a break in or of Victor.


	5. Set up

**Chapter 5**

Emily was now rushing through the streets of the dead, giggling uncontrollably. Scraps was barking gleefully at her side, his nimble feet taping tunefully on the cobbled street. They swiftly turned round a corner to see the Ball and Socket, emitting a bright orange light. They could hear chattering coming from the inside; by the sounds of it the pub was pretty full. Emily stopped dead outside the pub, nerves had overcome her. She began fiddling with her bony thumb, clicking it in and out of its joint. Scraps looked up at her impatiently, he had never been into the Ball and Socket and was eager to get in. He gave a little whine.

"Yes, yes I know," said Emily looking down at the dog, "We'll go in in a minute,"

Scraps sat down, sensing that they'd be there for a while.

After a few moments Bonejangles emerged from the pub. As soon as he saw Emily standing in the street he froze.

"Wow…, Emily you look.. Amazing!" said Bonejangles, slowly scanning Emily from top to bottom with his one eye.

Emily gave an embarrassed smile and a shaky laugh. She went to step into the pub when Bonejangles stopped her.

"What are you gonna do about him?" he asked pointing to Scraps.

"What? Oh, yes, Mrs Plum doesn't allow dogs in the pub dose she…"

"No Emily sweet, she doesn't" said Bonejangles rather formally.

"But, can't you persuade her to let him in this once? Mrs Plum would do anything or you." said Emily sweetly, pouting slightly. She could be quite persuasive.

"I'll do m' best," said Bonejangles turning to the door with a smile.

"Come on Scraps," said Emily excitedly.

They proceeded to walk down the stairs and into the pub. Everyone turned their heads to look at Emily, silence fell over the room. All eyes were on Emily, none of them had seen Emily without her wedding dress. Bonejangles gave the crowd a: "Don't you know it's rude to stair," kind of look and ushered Emily towards the bar; Scraps was hot on their heels. Mrs Plum came waddling towards them, beaming.

"Oh Emily you look wonder-" Mrs Plum's eyes fell on Scraps, "What's that thing doing in hear?" she growled.

Scraps looked offended then looked up to Emily and Bonejangles for support. Emily had her fingers to her mouth, giving Bonejangles the same look Scraps was giving them. (Help, save me from the mean old lady).

"Ms Plum, look it's Victor's ol' dog, an-" attempted Bonejangles, but Mrs Plum cut across him.

"No Bonejangles, I don't care who's it is, just get that mutt out of hear," said Mrs Plum, waving away his and Emily's protests. Bonejangles picked up a very grumpy Scraps and took him up the stairs of the pub where he tied him up.

Mrs Plum turned back to Emily: "Anyway as I was saying, Emily you look wonderful! I'm glad to see you're making use of that little present we gave you."

"Thank you," smiled Emily, "I do feel a little strange though; I'd been in that dress so long…"

" Well you look beautiful" said Mrs Plum heading back to the bar, "Good luck tonight!" she yelled over the noise of the crowd.

Bonejangles came back down into the pub and approached Emily.

"Let's get started settin' everything up," he said grabbing Emily's hand and leading her through the crowd and on to the stage. Bonejangles and Emily began to set up the stage and tune the piano

"That dog of yours ain't very happy," he said, nodding towards the stairs as he tested the piano keys.

"Yes he was looking forward to coming in here," said Emily with a sad expression, "He'll be howling all through the set…"


	6. The egg breaks

**Chapter 6**

Victor didn't like lying to Victoria. He really didn't. But he knew she wouldn't understand. As he walked over the bridge that led to the forest Victor shivered; as if someone where walking over his grave. He turned round and looked back to the village; back to Victoria. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so guilty. It wasn't like he was running away forever; he was just going to be gone for one night. All he wanted was to see Emily perform and see that she was alright. He could have been honest with Victoria. He could have even asked her to come with him. But he was sure that Emily wouldn't have liked that, Victor played the scenario in his head: "Oh, hello Emily. Remember me, the guy you _almost_ married. This is my wife to be Victoria, who I see every day, while you're stuck down here, all alone in the darkness."

Victor walked on the path through the woods. The trees were tall with few branches. He carried on walking with crows watching him until he reached the glade with a twisted oak tree in it. Victor walked to the centre of the glade, creating fresh footprints as he did so. He looked up; more snow began to fall from the sky. Victor opened his bag and produced a large grey egg and some scraps of paper. Elder Gutknecht had told Victor and Emily how to use it on their "Wedding Night", so that after the service they could transport back to the land of the dead safely. Victor untied the scrap of silk holding the letter and the flier to egg; they were caught by the wind and blew away into the darkness of the woods. Victor knew it would be pointless going after them. He held the egg in both hands and raised it high above his head. He pushed on the middle of the egg with both of his thumbs and it cracked open. Victor was swallowed by a cloud of golden dust. He shut his eyes tightly. Victor felt very light headed and numb for a moment; when he opened his eyes he saw that he was in the Land of the Dead.

The mass of colour was quite a shock to the system after the dullness of the Land of the Living. Victor studied his surroundings: he had transported himself to a dead end. He walked out into the street to see it was quite empty. Victor realized that he was outside Elder Gutknecht's tower. (Which he recalled that was quite a way from the Ball and Socket). Victor also didn't know the way to the pub from here; he had to ask for directions. He looked up at the tour and the daunting task that lay ahead of him if he decided to go and ask Elder Gutknecht for directions. Then Victor noticed that their was another house under the tower. It had a red coffin shaped door with scratch marks on its base. Victor discarded the egg shells and walked down the steps to the door. He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer.

"Hey, Victor!" came a husky voice that startled Victor so much that he had to stop himself yelping. It was Bonejangles. "What are you doin' here?! You're late!"

Victor came back up to street level, " Well, I didn't know the way…and I was trying to…um, well-"

"Nevermin' just hurry or you'll miss what's lef' of Emily's performance" said Bonejangles gesturing that they should move quickly.

Emily. No one had mentioned that name to Victor in two months. Not even Victoria. It was good to hear it again. Good to now that she hadn't just been a figment of his imagination.

"Yes, sorry. How is she?" said Victor a little too eagerly. Bonejangles gave Victor a look.

"I mean, you didn't say much in your letter," said Victor, restraining his excitement.

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Bonejangles walking briskly, "She's doing fine, seems to have forgotten all about _you_." Bonejangles examined Victor's face for a reaction. Victor looked disappointed, sad and maybe even a little worried.

"Ah… so it's like that…" muttered Bonejangles

"What?"exclaimed Victor defensively.

"Na, it's nothin'…" said Bonejangles waving Victor's curiosity away with a bony hand.

"No, you said something," said Victor struggling to keep up with Bonejangles.

"It's nothin' of great concern,"

"What does that mean?!" said Victor getting worried.

"It's _nothin'_" Bonejangles was starting to enjoy himself.

"Please, what did you say?" pleaded Victor.

"It's nothin' to worry about,"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Cuz you'd worry about it." said Bonejangles struggling not to lauph.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you…"

Bonejangles laughed out loud, "I'm sorry… but it's written all over you're face."

"What is?!"

"No, no, I'll spoil it."

Victor gave Bonejangles a frustrated look and carried on walking, examining the empty street.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Watchin' Emily." replied Bonejangles simplistically.

"What? Everyone?" said Victor in disbelief.

"Yep, well, a great lot of em'"

"I didn't realise she was so popular…"

The sound of muffled tuneful singing ecoed through the street. It was the most beautiful thing Victor had ever heard. Victor opened his mouth to say something but Bonejangles cut across him.

"Yeah, that's her," said Bonejangles with a smile.

"Waw…." Victor's face looked like that of a rat that had heard the tune of the Pied Piper.

"We're nearly there," said Bonejangles

They walked on for a few more minutes and the singing grew louder and more clear. Victor could make out a few words but not enough to get the lyrics. They walked through the town squere and past the skeletal horse statue; Victor knew they were getting close. The turned a corrner and saw the Ball and Socket sign hanging perfectly still. Scraps was tied up outdide of the pub with his head bent; looking miserable.

"Scraps!" exclaimed Victor as he rushed towards his beloved dog. Scraps made pitiful attempts to free himself and jump over to Victor, barking as he did so.

There came a loud thick sounding round of applause from inside the pub. It lasted quite some time before Emily began another song. Victor and Bonejangles could hear it clearly from outside:

"Hey, Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me,

I'm not sleepy, and there ain't no place I'm going to,"

Bonejangles cut across. "Damn it that's her last song, get in there quick!"

Victor proceded to enter the pub. It was packed to the rafters with people (the smell was quite overwhelming). Some of which, to Victor's agitation, had chosen to crowd the stairway down to the pub. Victor shuffled past them while Emily carried on to sing; oblivious to his presence.

"Take me for a trip upon your magic swirling ship,

All my senses have been stripped,

And my hands can't feel to grip,

And my toes to numb to step,"

Victor couldn't get a good look at her through the tightly packed crowd. No one seemed to remember him but they let him pass through without too much fuss.

"I'm ready to go anywhere,

I'm ready for to fade into my own parade,

Cast your dancing spell my way,

I promise I'll go under it."

Emily started the next verse more timidly. Victor still couldn't see her.

"Hey…

Mr Tambourine Man play a song for me,

I'm not sleepy and nobody cares,

Where I'm going to."

(That line earned a jeer of dissagreement from the crowd.)

"Hey, Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me,

In the jingle gangle morning,

I'll come following you."

"Take me disappearing down the smoke rings of my mind,

Through the foggy winds of time,

Down past the frightened leaves,

And the lifeless frozen trees,

Way down to the windy beach,

Far From the twisted reach,

Of crazy sorrow."

Finally Victor was close enoph to see her. He was quite taken aback. Emily was singing in to an old world war two stile microphone, her posture was both confidant and elegant at the same time. Her new dark dress suited her very well and she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Victor had managed to get himself into the main throng of the crowd.

"I wanna dance beneath a diamond sky,

with one hand waving free!"

Emily smiled as her eyes scanned over the crowed untill she saw Victor. All expresion was wiped from her face. She carried on singing untill she finished the song.

"Hey, Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me,

I'm not sleepy, and their aint no place I'm going to,

Hey, Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me,

In the jingle gangle morning I'll come following."

A mass of applauding and whistling followed. Emily gave a few curtseyes and then walked off stage. She went out through the door that led to the kitchens. Victor tried to make his way through the crowd as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for Victor, the bar was right next to the kitchen door and half of the underworld was flocking towards it. But after many "Excuse me" s and "pardone me"s Victor managed to get to the door. He opened it and escaped the husle ans busle of the bar. To his surprise he was met by Emily screaming hysterically. Victor looked down the coffin-lined alley to see Emily shrieking at Bonejangles.

"I think I'm going mad Bonejangles!" she said bearying her face in her hands.

"Why do you say tha' doll?" asked Bonejangles looking concerned and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I thought I saw… I thought I saw Victor in there…" she replied, tears swelling up in her eyes.

Bonejangles breathed a sigh of releaf. "Is that all…"

"Huh…?" Emily looked up at Bonejangles

"Victor _was_ in their you silly lil'-"

"What?!" cried out Emily in disbelief

Victor was unsure what to do. He watched Bonejangles explain everything to a very shoked Emily. Victor was frozen to the spot; he was sure Emily hadn't seen him yet. He desided to stay put: just I case.

"So…" said Emily clearing everything in her head, "Victor's come down here to see me."

"Yep" replied Bonejangles

"Then where is he?"

"ah….." said Bonejangles, looking awkward

Emily looked at him for a moment.

"Oh my goodness. Don't tell me you lost him!" she said getting (adorablely) panicked.

"Ymmm…"

Emily looked as if she where going to burst into tears again.

"No….no, I didn't get lost," said Victor quietly; taking a cautious step out of the shadows.

For a moment the two of them stared blankly at each other until Emily's face lit up. She ran towards him and leaped into a hug. (she ran in to him with so much force that Victor spun round)

"I'm so happy to see you!" said Emily in a shakey voice.

"I…I can tell," said Victor breathless from the deadly hug.


	7. Stop Lying to Girls!

**Chapter 7**

Victor and Emily had considered going into the Ball and Socket to talk but then decided that it would be too noisy and that they would be overheard. They then thought that they could go to Emily's flat, but it was a bit of a walk just to have a quiet word. Eventually they settled with going to the hill that overlooked the Land of the Dead. They began to make there way there, talking as they did so.

"Victor… how did you get down here without Elder's help?" asked Emily, the curiosity in her voice was unmasked.

"I did have Elder Gutknecht's help… well, not directly." said Victor trying to compose a more satisfying answer in his head. Emily looked intrigued.

"Well…about a week ago, I was asleep… and their was this scrabbling sound at my window. I looked up and there was this big… no, huge crow pecking at the window latch. So I opened the window and it flew in, dropping a package on my desk."

"I thought you didn't like crows." interrupted Emily

"What makes you say that?" asked Victor

Emily shrugged, "You just seem edgy around them."

"Well, I … hm… I wont deny that, but, when they have packages they seem a little less menacing."

"Hm…" said Emily, pondering whether a crow would be more or less frightening with a package, " I suppose you're right," said Emily brightly.

Victor gave a small chuckle and regained his train of thought. "Well, anyway. I opened the package and their was this crow egg and a letter from Bonejangles inside it."

"Ah…." said Emily seeming to understand more than Victor did, "So Bonejangles got you down hear using crow magic…"

"Yes," Victor considered asking Emily more about crow magic, but then thought better of it. Emily turned back to Victor.

"But… How did Bonejangles know that you would come?" asked Emily, her brow creasing slightly.

"Well, the crow wouldn't leave my room until I wrote a reply. It took me a while to figure out why it wasn't leaving… but it kept tapping at my ink bottles and scratching at my note book until I understood."

They turned a corner and saw the hill in front of them. There where curved steps leading up to the top and their where wobbly swirled railings around the edge.

"Would you like to take the stairs this time Victor?" giggled Emily. Victor went a slight shade of pink. As they made their way up the steps Victor noticed something new about the landscape: their was some luminescent green fungi growing in patches over most of the surrounding rocks. It seemed to be oozing out of the rocks and trickling down the walls. In the time that Victor had spent marvelling at the fungi Emily had overtaken him and had reached the top of the stairs. She was effortlessly dancing elegantly next to the low flimsy railings.

"Emily be careful!" shouted Victor from below, "you might fall over the edge and-"

"And what?" Emily's skirts swirled round her ankles as she spun round, "Hurt myself?" said Emily with slight dark humour. It was sweet that Victor had those concerns for her. But it was pointless to worry about a dead woman getting hurt. He reached the top of the stairs and they both went to sit on the rickety coffin bench.

"It's lovely up here isn't it?" said Emily, looking over the Land of the Dead. "Do you know when you're going to get back upstairs?" she asked as she started to relax on the bench.

"Well… I, um, I don't know…" said Victor looking concerned, " I mean I have to get back to Victoria before tomorrow."

The mood instantly changed. At the mention of Victoria's name Emily's face fell into a sad expression and she looked down at the floor. Victor wanted to slap himself for being so insensitive. But before he could try and apologize Emily wiped the sorrow and jealousy from her face and asked: "How is Victoria?" in a totally everyday fashion.

"I um.. I… She, um…I,…I honestly don't know." said Victor helplessly, " I hardly see her because of my work, and when I do see her I don't know what to say, I think she's starting to lose patience with me, and she has these strange mood swings, not angry mood swings, but she can be contented one minute and miserable looking the next, and I really don't know what to do…" Victor sighed and looked over at Emily. She looked shocked and a little worried.

"Victor I'm…I'm sorry," said Emily with genuine concern in her voice. "Are you sure it's that bad?"

"I, I don't know. She seemed quite panicky when I left this evening," said Victor suddenly looking tiered.

"Did you tell her you where coming down here?" asked Emily leaning in closer to Victor.

Victor felt like lying. He deeply regretted bringing Victoria into the conversation. But when he looked into Emily's big bright eyes he knew that he couldn't lie. He may have been able to before, but not now.

"I…" he took a deep breath, "I didn't tell Victoria." he proceeded to bow his head in shame.

"Victor!" Emily stood up angrily, "How could you do that? I felt so horrible when you lied to me, and now you're doing the same to Victoria,"

Victor examined her face and saw that she wasn't angry with him, but he was certainly disappointed in him.

"I know that I shouldn't have lied to her," said Victor also rising from the bench. " But I know that if she knew that I was coming down here…" Victor paused, "…last time I came down hear she was nearly wedded to a murderer and I nearly married…"

"A corpse?" said Emily raising an eyebrow.

"Another woman." said Victor; which made them both smile.

They both looked out over the Land of the Dead. As they did so Victor felt somewhat complete. He wanted to stay like that forever. Without thinking Victor put his arm around Emily's cold shoulders. Emily hesitated for a moment and then put her non-skeletal arm around Victor's skinny waist. This was the closest he'd felt to anyone in two months. Why couldn't he stay like this?

"You should go now…" said Emily slipping out of the hug.

"Yes, I should," said Victor looking happier.

"You'll always be welcome to come and see me perform," said Emily stepping back with a smile.

"I'll definitely come back," said Victor straightening himself up, "Your performance was beautiful,"

Victor took a deep breath and said "Hopscotch!" he closed his eyes tightly. A flock of pure black crows flew in from nowhere and enveloped Victor, cawing with absolutely no elegance or tune. When they scattered in different directions Victor was gone; leaving Emily to look at the view by herself.


	8. Drip Drop

**Chapter 8**

Victor felt very light headed. He stumbled and fell and hit the snow coated floor with a thump. He looked up to see crows scattering in all directions around the forest; their cawing sounded like laughter. They had transported him back to the Land of the Living; by hurling him out of the Land of the Dead. Victor stood up and brushed the damp snow off of his clothes. Victor looked around the forest to see that the sky was much darker then it had been a few hours previous. The snow was no longer falling and everything was still and quiet. How long had he been gone? Would Victoria be worried? Victor knew she would. He looked over to the village and felt a strong wave of guilt pass through him. Emily was right: he shouldn't have lied to Victoria. He began to walk back to the village with dozens of milky crow eyes watching his every step.

As Victor crossed the bridge he felt the same shudder he'd felt earlier on. He looked over at the village and saw that everyone's house lights were off except for his own front room. Victor walked through the town square and up to his front door. Before he opened it he looked over to the Everglott mansion and wondered how they still had enough money to keep it.

He went into the hall and took off his coat; He noticed how horribly cold it was in his house. Victor went into the front room to see Victoria asleep in front of a few smouldering embers. The glow of the lamp next to her showed a few blotchy patches on her face; she had been crying. Another drop of guilt joined the already powerful wave rushing though Victor's body. He considered waking her up, but decided he better not. Instead he went over to the dark wood bureau in the corner of the room and opened one of the drawers. It was full of the patchwork blankets that Victoria liked to make. He took out a pink and plum coloured blanket and put it over the sleeping Victoria. Victor went to close the curtains, but jumped at the sight of three crows perched on the windowsill staring up at him. He quickly shut the curtains with the screech of the curtain rings scrapping against their poll.

Victor proceeded up the creaky stairs and into his room. He went over to the chest of drawers to get his night clothes. When he looked up he saw three crows on the outside of the windowsill, staring at him. They weren't carrying a package but they were staring intently at Victor. They wanted to come in. Victor tried to ignore them as he got dressed, hoping that they would go away; but they didn't. Victor knew that if he opened the window they would come in and make terrible mess. He closed the curtains on them and got into bed. Oh, what a racket they made! They screeched and cawed in protest. Victor tried to ignore them. They scraped and pecked at the glass of the window, trying to break it. But they didn't succeed. Victor lay in his bed with the blanket pulled over his head; trying desperately to fall asleep. Emily was right, Victor _really_ didn't like crows.


	9. Do You Love Me?

Chapter 9

Victoria awoke to see Victor sitting in the chair opposite her. He was looking into the few smouldering embers left in the fire grate; his eyes following the wisps' of smoke. He hadn't noticed that she was awake. Victoria's back ached horribly; she had never slept anywhere except for a comfy bed before. For a brief moment Victoria forgot why she was in the front room. Then she remembered: she had been waiting up for Victor. She stretched, and a jolt of pain shot up her spine. Victoria gave a little moan.

"Victoria…" Victor looked up; he looked tired as if he hadn't slept all night.

"Victor I…" Victoria gathered her thoughts and wiped the fatigue from her eyes,

"Victor, what happened last night? You where gone for hours. I was so worried."

Victor looked straight at Victoria, "Victoria I, I'm really sorry…I lied to you last night." he hung his head in shame. Victoria looked worried, but she looked like she wanted Victor to carry on, so he did. "I, I went to the Land of the Dead last night…and I-"

"You went to see her didn't you." Victoria cut across. Victor was taken aback by how abruptly Victoria had broached the subject. Victoria was quite surprised at herself too.

"I, um.. Yes I did…" Victor trailed off. He had planned everything he was going to say to Victoria, but all of those thoughts where lost. "How did you know?" asked Victor after a while.

"I found the letter and that, um, egg." said Victoria composing her posture. Victor was even more taken aback now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"I didn't think you where going to use it." Victoria paused, "Why didn't you tell me you had them?"

"I.." Victor knew his answer was the wrong one. "I knew it would upset you." Victor didn't look her in the eyes.

Victoria bit her lip and gave Victor a scolding look. "Why did you go and see her? Why did you go and see that corpse?"

"Please don't call her that," said Victor quietly as he raised his head. "Her name, is Emily."

"Well…" Victoria looked uncomfortable, "Why did you go and see her?"

"I, wanted to see how she was," their was a long silence.

"Victor, these past few months we've barely spoken. I know that that is as much my fault as it is yours…and I…" Victoria paused, her lip was quivering as she tried to look at Victor "Victor I love you so much!" she said, leaning towards him with tears in her eyes. "And when I found that package I… it threw me. And I'm sorry if I haven't been so…consistent with you, but with this house and, and my parents, and your parents … I just haven't been myself." Victoria was now on her knees; she was leaning on Victors lap and tears where rolling down her cheeks. "Why didn't I say this before he went last night?" thought Victoria. They stared at each other for a moment. Victor leaned down towards Victoria and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise, happiness and a little anxious "This could be the end of it," Victoria thought "We could just move on from this. He might even forget about her." But she had one more thing to say. She crossed her arms and leaned her elbows on Victor's lap and looked up at him.

"Victor… do you remember, on the night of our wedding rehearsal; when you said that you wanted to be with me forever? And that you couldn't wait to get married."

"Yes," said Victor looking down into her hazel eyes and bright face.

"Do you still feel that way?" Victoria looked back into his eyes. "Do you still love me?"

Victor really didn't know how he felt. Victoria wouldn't like that answer, but it was the truth. If he said that he was in love with her then they would almost certainly get married swiftly; and Victor would be married to Victoria. He could no longer even think of going to see Emily again. That thought made his stomach squirm. If he said no, it would break Victoria's heart; and in turn, break his. Victor's throat felt like a tied balloon; leaving all the air and words he wanted to say firmly trapped inside himself.

"I… I'm sorry Victoria I don't know," he said dropping his gaze.

"Victor just… look into your heart and you'll know," said Victoria staring up at him hopefully.

Victor grappled inside himself looking through the trapped thoughts. When had he felt the happiest the most whole? What resided in his heart? The answers he came up with brought tears to his eyes. Memories came flowing thick and fast overwhelming Victor. He saw Emily walking up to the alter in the church and saying her vows with tears in her eyes. Pictures of her performance last night and the last words he spoke to her were the last memories he managed to extract from his brain. "I'll definitely come back, Your performance was beautiful,"

Was she happy now? Was she waiting for him? What would _she want him to say?_

"_Victor…?" said Victoria throwing him back into the present. Victor looked straight at her, tears drying on his face._

"_Yes Victoria, I love you." _


	10. Bonejangles' Imparted Wisdom

Chapter 10

Emily sat at the bar in the empty Ball and Socket pub. She ran her bony finger around the rim of her glass as she pondered the events of the evening. Victor had seemed happy enough , well, until he mentioned Victoria. Why was that? Things couldn't be that bad for them, could they? They where in love, weren't they? Emily couldn't see how anyone couldn't love Victor. He was perfect in her eyes; she'd forgive him anything. And Victor loved Victoria, Emily was sure of it. When he and Emily had first met he would have done anything to get back to Victoria. She really hoped that they where happy in the Land of the Living. Why wouldn't they be happy?

Emily heard the kitchen door open as Bonejangles entered the pub. He looked quite pleased with himself.

"Hey Emily, how'd it go?" he asked eagerly.

"How did what go?" she replied, her mind still filled with thoughts of Victor and Victoria.

"Y' know, your "talk" with Victor."

"Well… I'm not sure. I don't know if he's happy"

"What d' you mean?" Bonejangles leaned on the bar

"He was cheerful enough," Emily looked up from her glass "until we started talking about Victoria."

"The living girl?" asked Bonejangles. Emily nodded in reply.

"How was he when he talked abut her?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked Emily suspiciously

"I'm jus' interested that's all," (Emily didn't believe him, but she carried on anyway)

"He seemed stressed and…"

"Unhappy? Distant? Worried?" asked Bonejangles curiously as he poured himself a drink.

"Definitely worried… why are you so interested?"

" Sounds to me like he thinks he made the wrong decision," said Bonejangles taking a large sip of his drink. Emily gave a groan as she leaned back in her seat.

"I knew it." she said, glaring at Bonejangles.

"What?"

"You thought you could get Victor and I back together. That's why you invited him down tonight,"

"Well-" began Bonejangles.

"Him and Victoria are practically engaged!" said Emily raising her voice

"But Emily -"

"You had no right to invite him without asking me!" she interrupted again, her voice shaking; not with anger but with worry "Him and Victoria will probably argue about it, and it'll all be our fault!"

"But Emily," attempted Bonejangles expecting Emily to snap at him again. "He loves you,"

Emily looked up, shocked. "What makes you say that?"

"Anyone can see he's crazy about you, I'm sure of it." said Bonejangles softly, leaning closer towards Emily. She stared back at him, wide-eyed. Emily could feel something swelling up inside of her, washing through every inch of her body. A great force of emotion that was trying to prompt a smile on her face, and tears in her eyes.

"And what makes you so sure?" she asked, doing her best to hide her emotions.

"I've seen so many men in love come 'n' go. Some could mask their feelin's, they put on an act that could fool anyone. They could wipe any amount of smiles from their face and suppress enough tears to fill rivers. They'd lock themselves up so tight, an' safeguard their emotions so well. You'd never know by lookin' how they felt. And there are others, who have their feelin's written all over their face, out in the open for anyone to read. Their careful but clumsy with their emotions; they leave their love lyin' about and wait for someone to embrace 'em. I think we both know which one of those men Victor is." Bonejangles looked straight at Emily. She wasn't going to question or challenge him. They both knew he was right.

The swelling emotion within Emily burst and consumed her. She wanted to empty it out, throw it up and expel it out of her body. It was a strong feeling of happiness and joy, laced with gilt and self disgust. She loved Victor very deeply; she'd give anything for him to be happy. But, it seemed, he wasn't happy with Victoria. And it sickened Emily right down to her centre, but, she was _so happy, _that Victor might, just might, love her more than Victoria.

Emily had been so convinced that Victor would have the perfect life with Victoria. A truly blessed existence, filled with everything that the dead were denied: The sun, the moon and the stars shining down on them, beautiful charming children and the ability to feel each others warmth. But now those illusions were crumbling down and revealing the truth. Victor might not love the woman who could offer him everything a living woman ever could. He loved the woman that could only drag him down to the underworld, and never give him a full warm kiss.

And with that thought Emily broke out into floods of tears. Bonejangles rushed round the bar to comfort her. Emily began to cry into his shoulder, her tears dripping down and through his ribcage.

"I would've thought you'd be happy," he said soothingly, rubbing her back with one hand. "He returns your feelin's,"

"I… I don't-" Emily was breathing erratically, "I don't want to hurt anyone,"

"Victor's already hurtin' doll," said Bonejangles, holding her by the shoulders at arms length. "It's time you stopped being so selfless, or you'll both end up unhappy." Bonejangles took his hands off of her shoulders and stepped back. "It's unfair on all three of y' but, that's life and death. Some things are just beyond your control," he cast Emily a sympathetic look and went to leave.

"Wait!" moaned Emily helplessly "What am I supposed to do?"

"Something selfish," replied Bonejangles simply. Emily stared back at him, confused.

"Jus' do whatever makes you happy," and with that he left Emily, once again, alone.


	11. Every Time

Chapter 11

Victor sat at the desk in his room watching the early sunset through the window. As the sun hit the horizon, the snow began to sparkle and pink light seeped in to his and Victoria's room. There had been several sunny days up in the Land of the Living; and after bargaining with Victor's father Victoria had managed to get him a whole week off work. They had spent a lot of time together; reading poetry, going for walks and playing piano. Victor had been teaching Victoria how to play the piano for a few days. He had hoped that it could be something he and Victoria could share but she was truly terrible at it and she got so frustrated with herself when she got the tunes wrong. Thoughts of Emily and the Land of the Dead constantly crept into Victor's mind. Every time Victor watched the sun set, or saw the moon, he thought of how much Emily would appreciate it and how happy it would make her just to catch a glimpse of the sky. And each time Victor played the piano he was reminded of how much emotion Emily could compose into a tune and how well she could accompany him.

He had also been plagued by bad dreams. The worst of nightmares that made his heart race; and when Victor woke he would be shaking and covered in cold sweat. This had made Victoria very worried. She'd ask him what he had dreamt about and if there was anything she could do to help, but Victor never replied and just told her that it was nothing for her to worry about. His dreams always started on the old bridge by the forest. He'd be looking into the river, examining his reflection; but then he'd drop his gold wedding ring into the water and his reflection would disappear as soon as the ring hit its surface, as if it were eager to get away. Victor would reach for his ring but before he could touch it an ear shattering scream would echo through the forest. The scream sounded like one of absolute pain and terror. Victor, each and every time, knew that it was Emily. He'd run into the forest as quickly as he could, without a clue where he was going. He'd catch glimpses of a tattered veil, or glowing blue ghostly skin, or a skeletal leg, and he'd run towards them. He would run tirelessly until he reached a large clearing, and right in the centre would be a figure, dressed in pure white that made the snow on the ground look dull. She stood with her back to him and a veil over her face; her head would be tilted to the left as if examining something. Victor would take hold of her shoulder and gently turn the figure round expecting to see Emily's face shining through the veil. But the face on the bride was that of Victoria's, but her cheeks were coated in rouge and her eyes would sparkle with belladonna. Confused, Victor would push Victoria away; and when she hit the floor, with a soft thud, she'd disappear leaving her empty wedding dress to fall limply to the ground.

Another, less fearful, scream would sound through the woods. Again the scream belonged to Emily. Victor would run into the direction of the scream, and spot a dark figure running in the same direction as him, weaving through the trees with little grace. It would give an evil chuckle, which sounded as if the laughter where coming from deep down inside the person's stomach. Forgetting to feel fear, Victor would then turn a corner to face the figure. A twisted diseased oak tree would have its branches enveloping Emily like a cage, surrounding her on all sides. Like the moon, she seemed to glow naturally in the darkness. Emily would stand very still, her arms stiffly held by her side, looking absolutely petrified. The dark figure would have her held in place from behind; as he backed closer to the dark tree his face would be illuminated my the moonlight. It was always Lord Barkis. His face would be covered with many bruises, all shades of gray and purple. His eyes would be yellow and bloodshot, the veins would seemed to reach round his eyeballs, as if they were trying to grasp his iris. He wore the most vile of smirks as he raised a cutlass to Emily's throat. The cutlass would glint in the light of the moon as Emily's frightened eyes were reflected in its blade. Victor would go to grab Emily's waist in an attempt to free her from Barkis' grasp but the ground would open up underneath them. The roots of the tree would wrap around Emily and Barkis, as if swallowing them both into the ground, and down into the underworld. Emily would stare back at Victor, silently pleading for help as Barkis wore a scowl of victory. Victor would try in vain to free Emily from the tangles of roots, trying his best to tear them away. But she would always consumed by the earth, leaving nothing but a empty cage of branches. Victor, weeping, would walk slowly out of the forest back to the bridge. Once he was on the bridge his sobs would then turn to coughs and splutters. He would then the wall of the bridge for support and lean over the edge. Victor would begin to choke; something was coming up his throat, something big, blocking Victor's wind pipe. Finely he would cough it up and out of his mouth. A golden wedding ring would fall from his mouth and into the river; and when it hit the rivers surface… Victor would always wake up at that precise point. Every time. It frustrated him more than anything else ever had. The dream confused him more and more each time he had it.

The sun had almost completely disappeared underneath the horizon. Victor looked round to see Victoria sitting on her bed reading a book of love poems, the light of the setting sun illuminated her form. She looked charming; the epitome of contentment. She had been doing her best to make Victor happy over the past few days. She'd been cooking him delicious meals and taking an interest in his hobbies. She had found him some wonderful taxidermy books and tried her best at the piano. Victor truly appreciated her loving gestures, but every time Victoria did something nice or considerate for him he got angry with himself. He didn't deserve her. He had been blessed with a kind and loving wife-to-be, but still it wasn't enough for him. Another woman would always be in the back of his mind; playing sweet music that charmed his soul and dismantled his common sense. Every time Victor had his recurring nightmare he would always run to Emily, disappointed with Victoria. This inspired such self-loathing within him. He felt so cruel and cold inside. But he would try his best to make Victoria happy. He would learn to love her. It couldn't be that hard seeing as she already loved him so very much.

Her contentment filled Victor with happiness. But still every time he thought of Emily, it made him happier.


	12. Making Plans:Inspiration and Consequence

Chapter 12

_Part 1_

It was a semi-busy evening in the Ball and Socket. Several conversations were taking place; hanging in the air like smoke, twisting and changing direction but remaining more or less the same. An accomplished violinist was playing whimsical music on stage (which was a change from the pub's usual jazzy theme.) Emily sat curled up in a quiet corner next to Bonejangles who was looking disapprovingly at the violinist. Emily had her legs held close to her stomach and a note book balanced on her knees. She was attempting to write a letter. A very important letter. She had written many drafts, and then scribbled over them in frustration, leaving many ink covered pages scrunched up on the pub floor. Much to Bonejangles' irritation, Emily had been chewing on the end of her fountain pen for the last fifteen minutes, making little progress.

"Emily doll, are y' sure this is the best way to do this," asked Bonejangles, losing interest in the music.

"I have to do it this way," she replied firmly "If I went to see him, Victor would just… feel awkward and say something he'd regret,"

Bonejangles rolled his eye, seeing that Emily hade made up her mind. "Have y' got anythin' down?"

"No…" replied Emily despondently "Nothing sounds right,"

And with that Emily lay the notepad down on the table and rested her chin on her knee looking defeated. The violinist finished his song and was politely applauded off of the stage.

"I thought he as quite good," said Emily glumly

"He was terrible Emily," replied Bonejangles.

"Ok," said Emily with as much enthusiasm as a dead fish.

Emily had been trying for hours to write a letter to Victor. She wanted him to know exactly how she felt, but she just couldn't find the right words. They would balance on the tip of her tongue and threaten to spill out on to the page, but then she would unintentionally swallow them down and her precious words would be lost inside herself. It was so exasperating, Emily was tempted to give up. But she had to get it out of her system; otherwise she thought that her feelings of love would fester inside her and turn into feelings of jealousy and hate. And Emily didn't want to hold on to such feelings for the rest of her afterlife. But for reasons unbeknown to her, she couldn't force them out.

Emily bowed her head and closed her eyes; she was sick and tired of her mental block.

Bonejangles stared at her. He felt so powerless. He wished he could tap into her mind and remove whatever barrier was blocking her ideas; He wished to see them flow out easily and freely. But how was he going to prompt them? Bonejangles glanced up at the empty stage and was hit by a sudden wave of inspiration.

Emily looked up to see Bonejangles leave his seat and head for the stage. He sat at the old piano. Its keys were rotten and yellow like the teeth of a smoker, and its coffin shaped red upholstery had faded to a pale burgundy as if something had sucked all of the life and vibrancy out of it. Bonejangles skeletal fingers lightly glided over the keys as he tried to remember… Emily and the jumpy bloke had played a lovely duet on this piano the night he had proposed to her. If only he could recall the tune. Bonejangles was sure that if Emily heard it again, it would invoke the same feelings in her. Inspire her. Open the mental flood gates and let her ideas rush out and into her letter. All at once the music played in Bonejangles memory loud and clear. The music flowed down from his mind and into his fingertips as they danced across the piano keys. Emily and Victor's tune flowed through the room, gliding through and mixing with the conversations that hung in the atmosphere of the pub. The tune started with a mood of despair then it slowly progressed to be sad and dreamy before it finally became cheerful and elevating.

As soon as the music caught Emily's ears her eyes snapped open. It was as if a light had been lit in her head; everything was bright and clear to her. The words and ideas that had been so reluctant to show themselves were now evacuating Emily's mind in a less than orderly fashion. Her ideas swam and weaved their way around her mind, whispering softly but swiftly to her before evaporating. Emily snatched up her note book and pen and poured out all of her ideas, they were as pure and strong as absinth. Her hand raised across the page franticly scribbling the letter in her flamboyant and intricate handwriting. She leaned low over the table, with her dark matted hair sprawled across its surface looking like a mass of tangled ivy.

When Bonejangles finished the song there was a ripple of enthusiastic applause as he exited the stage with a spring in his step. He sat back down next to Emily who as still hunched over the table, her pen scratching briskly over the paper.

"Hope you don' mind me using yours and Victor's tune," he said proudly, sensing that he had helped.

"That was you?," said Emily as she raised her head from the table, gawping slightly.

"Yep," he replied leaning back in his seat looking satisfied.

"Thank you so much Bonejangles!" cried Emily as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. The table took a knock that caused several glasses to clink together and disrupted the people on the other side. Bonejangles mouthed a "sorry" to them.

A wide and joy filled smile was spread across Emily's face. She seemed to glow as she maintained the hug that Bonejangles wasn't returning. (purely out of courtesy)

"Emily, sweetness. People 'r starin'." said Bonejangles suppressing a laugh. Emily released him, still beaming at him. She began to gather up her things and head for the out of the pub.

"Where are y' goin'?" asked Bonejangles as he watched her begin to leave.

"I'm going to see Elder Gutknecht," she replied brightly "I'm sure he can get the crows to post this for me." And with that she spun round and gracefully headed for the door.

****

As Emily climbed the dauntingly tall staircase to Elder Gutknecht's study, she wondered for about the 147th time that evening whether she was doing the right thing contacting Victor. There was a chance that Victor and Victoria were perfectly happy. They could be planning their wedding, or Victor could be walking home with a bouquet of flowers for Victoria, or they could be watching a romantic sunset, or they could even be planning children: Yes, all manor of perfectly normal scenarios could be plying out between them and Emily telling Victor how she felt would only bring him a whole lot of unneeded stress. At that moment Emily felt like the most selfish and needy brat; this was followed by a healthy twinge of self revolution. Her own conflicting opinions and thoughts began to relay through her mind:

_- Why are you even __**thinking**__ of sending this letter? You know it'll only lead to trouble._

_+ But it could lead to Victor and I being together and happy and -_

_- Where does that leave Victoria? What was the point of "letting Victor go" if you're just going to __**steal**__ him back again?_

_+ I wouldn't be stealing him; it would be __**his**__ choice,_

_- Do you think that Victoria will see it like that? Why should she let you just __**take**__ him?_

_+ I don't want to take him, and I don't want to steal him. I want to __**belong to him. **_

_- Don't you think that if he wanted __**you **__to be __**his **__he would have asked you long ago?_

_+ I have no idea how Victor feels. But what better way to find out then contacting him?_

Emily had reached the top of the stairs. A few oil lamps illuminated Elder Gutknecht's study with a surprisingly bright glow, like trapped sunshine. Stacks upon piles upon shelves of books constituted the room's disorderly yet organized structure. Above Emily was a dome of wire that made up the delicate skeleton of the ceiling and roof; this left the roots up high visible from the study. Emily saw Elder Gutknecht was at his podium lighting the last lamp with a long match. His old bones looked to Emily like pine wood that had been in the sea for years (being a home to the smallest of creatures) and then dried out in the baking sun: dry, bright, brittle and worn. His flimsy beard clung to his chin looking like a burnt out incense stick. As he tuned his head he adjusted his half-moon spectacles over his empty sockets so as to see Emily better.

"Ah, Emily. What brigs you here so late?" he asked cheerfully .

"I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you," she replied in a tone that suggested that the task would be unfeasible or hard to complete.

"Ask away my dear,"

"Well, I hoped that you could get the crows to deliver a letter for me,"

"To where?" asked Elder, looking as if he already knew the answer.

"Upstairs. The Land of the Living."

"Then, I am afraid we have a problem," said Elder grimly "That is, assuming the letter is for Victor,"

Emily only nodded in response. She had had a feeling that there would be a problem.

"The crows do not ask for much. They transport beings from one dimension to another with little fuss, and do not ask a high prise," Emily stared up at Elder, unsure where he was going with this. He continued "Whilst in the Land of the Living the crows do not feel at home. The atmosphere and aura of the place is completely different to The Land of the Dead. It unsettles them, and they will not make nests out in the open. It was Victor's duty to provide them with a safe and secure place to sleep, but he neglected that duty and did not welcome them into his home. As a result of this one of the youngest crows was murdered by a cat. Crows are not like any other animal they are truly magical beings: They pass straight over to the other side without dwindling in the Land of the Dead. The end really is the end for them. The crows are deeply saddened by Victor's behaviour and refuse to help him," Elder Gutknecht wore a grave expression. He truly adored his crows and this lost had clearly effected him.

"I'm so sorry," said Emily, unsure of what to say.

"There is another way you can get your letter to Victor," said Elder slightly more brightly "Though I don't think you're going to like it,"

"What is it?" asked Emily, for some reason feeling a little hopeful.

"The crows will not transport anything for Victor, large or small. But they will transport you."

"What do you mean?" asked Emily looking puzzled.

"The crows will take you to the Land of the Living, where they will allow you to deliver the letter yourself, in person,"

The reality of the situation suddenly dawned on her, like a bucket of icy water being dropped on her head. Emily would have to return to the Land of the Living. Walk right up to Victor and Victoria's door and post her marriage wrecker of a love letter through their letter box. She looked up at Elder Gutknecht helplessly. She knew that she didn't _have _to do anything. But the longer she held on to her letter the more it hurt; like sitting in front of a warm fire for a long time, the heat will start to burn you but you will still feel reluctant to move. After a silence Emily asked Elder a question that confused her slightly.

"If the crows know that the letter is for Victor, why would they take me upstairs to deliver it?"

Elder took a moment to contemplate her question, "I believe… That they think that it will cause Victor some difficulty, if you visit the Land of the Living," he answered plainly and truthfully.

This was followed by another moments silence. Emily stood perfectly still whilst contemplating weather or not it was worth causing all this tension between her, Victor and Victoria, all for the sake of a love note.

"Well, my dear. Have you come to a decision?" asked Elder. Emily looked him straight in the face.

"Do you think I should do it?" she asked hoping for him to convince her out of it.

"I believe that love is worth fighting for. If you don't toil for it now, then I don't expect you'll find it again," he replied plainly but sympathetically.

Emily sighed. Everyone seemed to point her to the same selfish direction.

"I… need some time to think about this," she said as she tuned and descended the stairs down to her room.


	13. Making Plans:Arrangements to prearrange

Chapter 12

_Part 2_

It had been a week since Victor had visited the Land of the Dead and Victoria seemed to have forgotten about the whole thing. Contrary to how he had expected her to react, she had become more joyful and consistent towards Victor. He knew it was because of one sentence. One lie he had told. He wished he could be a better person; someone who knew exactly what to say and could be completely honest with himself and others. But he wasn't. He was a hopeless coward who couldn't speak to girls without lying to them. Victor had often wondered if there was anyone he could ask for advice, but the only person he could think of that could give him good, true guidance was Emily; and that was completely out of the question. Speaking of Emily and even thinking of Emily was out of the question. Every time he thought of her he felt an unbearable urge to flee to the Land of the Dead and never come back to he Land of the Living.

That morning Victor had woken up to find a neatly folded note on his dressing table and Victoria's bed pristinely made. Victor reached for the note and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes:

_Good morning Victor,_

_I've been talking to my parents recently and I have some good news. It's a surprise, so I've taken the liberty of preparing something a little special for the both of us. I'll be waiting at the glade in the woods for you. At about 12 o'clock._

_See you soon my love._

_Victoria xxx_

Victor looked over at the clock and groaned, it was three minutes to twelve. Victor hated early mornings but, for some reason, Victoria relished them. Her idea of a lie-in was a half past nine, so she probably thought she was being kind letting him sleep this late. Victor got up and briskly got dressed (having to re-button his waistcoat at least twice). He then rushed down the stairs and left the house saying a muffled good bye to his mother.

Outside of the house was bright and sunny, thought there was still a little snow on the ground. Victor looked across the village and straight at the woods. He hadn't been inside the forest since he had started having his recurring dreams that took place inside it. At that moment Victor felt a sudden wave of dread pass through him. What if his dreams had been a sign? A warning? Victor knew he was being foolish, but he still had a bad feeling. What 'good news' could Victoria possibly have for him? He tried to wipe all ridiculous notions from his head as he made his way over to the bridge. The cold (morning) air was slowly clearing Victor's mind and diluting his tiredness. As soon as Victor stood on the bridge he shuddered the same shudder he always did. High up in the trees the crows bowed their silky hooded heads as if they were mourning or depressed. Victor wondered what could possibly make a crow feel sad, but it was clear to him that these crows were most definitely miserable. The snow crunched underneath his tiny feet as he made is way to the glade. In between the trees a thin mist flowed like liquid. Victor kept expecting to see someone running among the trees as they did in his nightmares, but of course he didn't. Victor felt so silly, expecting to see shadowy figures running through the woods in the day time.

Victor could now see the clearing with Victoria sat in its centre: The sun cast golden rays of light through the trees that shone down on Victoria illuminating her pale skin. She looked like a mirage, surrounded my the cold snow and mist. It looked as if God were shining a spotlight down on her from the heavens. Her posture was relaxed and her smile was charming. She looked to Victor like an angel.

She had spread one of her patchwork blankets on the ground as a picnic rug. She gave a suppressed but proud laugh when she saw Victor approaching looking dazzled.

"Hello Victor," she said merrily and gestured for Victor to sit down on the blanket, and he did. She had spread an array of foods on the picnic blanket: There was a basket of apples, some sandwiches, a bilberry and cream tart and a bottle of red wine that glistened purple in the sun light. Unsure of what to say Victor chuckled;

"It's a little early for wine isn't it?"

"Not if you have something to celebrate," she smiled, Victor smiled back.

"May I ask what we're celebrating?" he asked. Victoria looked back at him as if she had been waiting a long time for him to say that.

"I went to see my parents yesterday, and I asked them what they thought about me not living at home." Victor looked back at her not fully understanding what she was saying. Victoria had done her best to stay away from her parents and now she was saying that she had voluntarily gone to see them.

"… What did they say?" asked Victor with a worried expression. Victoria began to pour them some wine into the appropriate glasses.

"Well, Mother went into hysterics and father began pacing and muttering to himself…"

"How is this good news?" interrupted Victor timidly as Victoria handed him a filled glass of wine.

"I guess that my parents slight insanity isn't good news…" she replied, beginning to trail off. "But they also said that they formaly dissownd me. They are no longer my guardians"

Victor looked at her conseredly, this was beginning to sound more and more like bad news. Victor knew that Victoria didn't like her parents but her behaviour was still a little strange. As if reading Victor's expression Victoria went on.

"They said that I could marry who ever I wanted and they weren't going to stop me," Victor still looked confused; she smiled back at him as if to say: 'Aw, bless'

"So, I asked you parents last night how they felt about me living with you," The smile on her face widened. "And they said that they wanted nothing more than for me to become a part of your family,"

Now he understood. The penny dropped inside Victor's mind and echoed through his head, and each fibre of his being replied to the sound with the same response: 'Oh No!'

"They all gave us their blessing!" she said ecstatically "Victor, we can get married!" and with that Victoria threw her arms around Victor and kissed him on the lips causing him to topple over. Victor felt himself physically flinch when her lips came into contact with his. When he felt her warm body press against him, his natural instinct was telling him to push her off, but he didn't. Instead he held his arms stiffly by his side and waited for her to get off of him. When Victoria's lips left his they made a strange squelching sound that made Victor involuntarily twitch. That was the first time he and Victoria had kissed, and he hadn't enjoyed it.

"Isn't it wonderfull Victor?" she asked regaining her posture. Her expression was that of a woman who had just seen a new born baby, overcome with inexplainable joy and happieness.

Victor made a noise that sounded like a puppy being kicked up the back-side before stuttering. "Well, um… It's awfully, umm, awfully sudden… Don't you think?"

"Well you could say that… but considering we were going to be married, without even meeting each other the first time around. Two months seems like a long time compared to that, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I… I guess," he replied sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, doing his best not to look at Victoria.

"You are happy, aren't you Victor?" looking at him with an anxious look deep in her eyes.

"Well I…" Victor thought that it would probably be best to be honest. As honest as he could be anyway. " I… I'm still quite sc-scared of um, ummm, marriage. And I really d-don't know if I can truly p-promise you to, to be with you f-forever," Victor looked down at his clasped hand as he rested them on his lap. Victoria looked at him sympathetically.

"Is it… that you think you won't be a good husband?"

"Well-" attempted Victor, but Victoria cut across him.

"That's nonsense, you'll make a wonderful husband!" she announced happily

Victor wanted to say that he really wouldn't make a good husband for numerous reasons. The first being that their marriage would be built on a very rickety foundation of lies. The second being that he would be constantly thinking of other women; one particular dead woman to be exact. And the third being that he didn't love her yet, and might never. But his cowardice surrounded these words and formed a strong shell around them, holding them inside himself.

"Y-you're right… I'm worrying about nothing," he said finely "It'll all be fine," The two of them chinked their wine glasses together in a toast.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Victoria as she sipped her wine with a smile. "Your mother has scheduled the wedding ceremony to be held in the church the day after tomorrow,"

Victor choked on his miniscule sip of wine.

"I'm so happy," said victoria with a blissfull expresion "In a couple of days I'll be Mrs Van Dort,"

And with that Victor drained his whole wine glass with one gulp. As he tipped his head back he saw that the trees surounding the glade where filled with crows. Everyone of them was watching him with a satified look on their face.

"It's good wine isn't it?" chuckled Victoria, surprised at how quickly he was drinking it.

"…Turific," replied Victor, choking a little. Thinking that the wine would taste a little sweeter if it were laced with poison.


	14. Making Plans: The Truth Will Out

**A/N**** Hello there, I just wanted to clear a few things about the last two chapters. Firstly, domestic cats do kill crows: my cat, who is a real softy, brought home a dead crow once and I was very surprised (just in case you thought that part of chapter 12 was a little farfetched). Secondly, bilberries are like blueberries except they're much sweeter. And lastly thank you SO MUCH for reading this far, it makes me so happy that people are enjoying my story.**

**I apologise to anyone who read the other chapters when they were bold or underlined (I believe I've sorted it now) **

**Okay, on with the chapter!**

Chapter 12

_Part 3 _

Emily had given it a full days thought, and had come to the decision that she would post the letter to Victor. Under the sound notion that "It is better to regret something you have done rather than something you haven't done." She still wasn't completely satisfied with her decision; she still thought that she was being self-centred; but according to Bonejangles, her constant introspection wasn't doing Emily any good, and she could see sense in that. As Emily made her way up the worm eaten stairs to see Elder Gutknecht, she felt thankful that she could no longer feel exhaustion. She stopped about half way up the stairs and looked over the Land of the Dead. From this distance the town looked like a very crowded graveyard; each building seemed to resemble a pointed tomb stone. Had it not been lit by so many fiery orange, purple and bottle green lights it would look quite dismal and hostile.

Elder's study was again brightly lit. The wire ceiling was littered with pure black crows. (Their feathers always reminded Emily of Victor's dark hair.) On the ledge of Elder's podium stood a rather large crow. It bowed its silky hooded head as Elder stoked it with one bony finger, as if consoling it. Emily saw one sparkling tear swell at the corner of its tiny eye. She felt a strong feeling of compassion rise up inside her stomach for the poor creature.

"What's wrong?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. "Why is it so sad?"

"She is still mourning the loss of her son," replied Elder Gutknecht quietly.

Emily felt twinge of gilt pierce her conscience. She couldn't help feeling a little responsible for the death of one of Elder's most prized birds. "I'm sorry," she said, looking up at Elder with wide apologetic eyes that showed she was being sincere, "I'm sure Victor didn't know what he was doing,"

"I'm certain that is true," replied Elder taking his gaze off of the bird, "But I am afraid that is little consolation."

Emily stared back at him, at a loss for what to say. There was a long and dragging silence before Elder asked: "Have you made you decision my dear?"

"Yes," replied Emily, relived that the silence had been broken. "I've decided to go after all. I'm still not sure if it's the right thing to do, but I'm afraid that if I leave it too late…" Emily didn't know the best way to finish her sentence. She could say she was afraid that she would become bitter, which was true. She could also say she feared that Victor would be trapped in a loveless marriage, which was also true. But the most genuine answer would be that she didn't want Victor to forget her. If she didn't reside in his heart, then she didn't want to reside anywhere. She hated to feel so dependant on him. It made her feel weak and needy… but she couldn't help it.

"It's just as well you didn't leave it any later," said Elder, seeing that she wasn't going to finish. Emily wanted to ask why that was, but decided against it. Elder walked down a precarious stack of books that had been fashioned into stairs. Emily watched as the ancient skeleton made his way over to a chest of draws and opened the drawer second from the top.

"I've always thought that this would suit you," he announced as he procured a bundle of silvery material. Emily looked over his shoulder curiously as she tried to get a clear look at the garment. "It's made from spider spun fabric." he said with a hint of pride in his voice as he handed it to Emily. She unfolded it and held it at arms length so as to examine it.

"My goodness…" she gasped. The garment was a long silvery cloak, so long that its rim reached the floor. As Emily looked at it more closely she realized that that the cloak was made up of thousands of dainty little cobwebs that glistened silver and bright white like water in the moon light. Every cobweb connected to the next like a dot to dot picture or star constellation. Each fold of the cloak seemed to catch the light, causing a constant shimmer to run through it. The clasp was butterfly shaped and also silver. The butterfly's wings were inlaid with deep blue and turquoise abalone; the two colours seemed to mix together in one knotted swirl. The butterfly's body was encrusted with dozens of small diamonds that made the butterflies back look textured.

"Elder Gutknecht, I can't accept this…" said Emily steadily, her eye transfixed on the cloak, "… it's just too beautiful,"

"I'm giving it to you for practical reasons as well," said Elder giving her a pleased smile.

"How could this ever have a practical use?" laughed Emily, tearing her eyes from the flimsy cobwebs.

"You're going up to the Land of the _Living_ my dear. Don't you think some of its residence would be surprised to see a corpse walking through the village? The hood should be large enough to shroud your blue face." said Elder as he climbed the book-comprised stairs up to his podium.

Emily put the cloak on carefully and fixed the clasp. It was so light and airy; it felt more like being surrounded by smoke than wearing a cloak. Emily pulled the hood over her head, it was still wide enough to drape over her shoulders. She retrieved the letter from her dress and clasped it in both hands, "This one peace of paper could change everything," she thought as she held it to her chest.

Elder Gutknecht called a crow down from the roof. One of the smaller crows swiftly made their way down to the podium where it perched next to the cluster of dripping burnt out candles. Elder took hold of its neck and gave its stomach a quick squeeze. The crow gave a shocked squawk and a large gray speckled egg popped out. The crow flew back up to the ceiling and joined its companions, cawing in protest as it did so.

"Are you ready my dear?" asked Elder holding the egg in his rite hand.

"Yes," replied Emily eagerly

"And you remember wh-"

"When I want to come back I'll say Hopscotch, yes I remember," interrupted Emily, looking excited and worried at the same time.

"Alright," said Elder, smiling as he held the egg over Emily's head. "Good luck,"

"Thank -" but before Emily could finish Elder broke the egg and golden smoke showered down on her head. The smoke rolled down her body and consumed her. Emily closed her eyes.

*****

Victor and Victoria sat in their living room. They where both in front of a small but warm fire that coated the room in bight orange light. Victor's parents had departed to their beds long ago. Victor had been staring into the fire, slipping in and out of consciousness for hours. He did not want to go to bed. He never wanted to fall asleep. For Victor knew that the moment his head hit the pillow he would instantly fall into a deep slumber filled with vivid dreams. They were beginning to worry Victor, not because they were so frequent, but because he was starting to enjoy them. Now when his dreams started he wouldn't wait for the scream to sound through the woods, he would just dash straight into them. Victor would keep his eyes pealed for a glimpse of Emily, and when he reached the glade he would simply ignore the fake Victoria. But no matter how quickly he got to her, Emily would always be swallowed up by the earth. And Barkis would always look _so_ satisfied with himself as he dragged her down into the darkness. Victor had never really hated anyone until he met Barkis. As soon as Victor learnt of what he had done to Emily, a seething hatred had begun to grow deep down inside him for Barkis. He had never understood true hate until then.

There was another reason Victor didn't want to go to bed. When Victor woke up tomorrow it would be his wedding day. His wedding to a woman he didn't love yet. He could feel himself physically falling apart from the inside, like a derelict building. But Victor just couldn't bring himself to tell Victoria; the very thought of it made him want to die. He knew it sounded over dramatic, but it was true.

Victoria left Victor's side and stood in front of the window. She began to gaze out into the night. Victoria and Nell had been getting along very well since yesterday. They'd been talking constantly and planning the wedding. Of course Victor didn't get a say in any of the arrangements. It was a "girl's thing." Victoria had been ecstatically happy through out the whole planning process. She'd been constantly turning round to say to Victor "Isn't it wonderful?!" and he would just nod and smile whilst thinking "At least someone's getting some joy out of this marriage,"

Victor rose from his chair and stood next to Victoria by the window. She had a serene look on her face as if she were reminiscing.

"What are you looking at?" asked Victor with a yawn.

"Oh… nothing," replied Victoria with a calm smile.

Victor looked out of the window and into the woods. After a moment he gave a sudden and sharp gasp that seemed to cut through the tranquil atmosphere.

"What? What is it?" asked Victoria, her contented expression completely wiped from her face.

Victor did not reply. He just stared fixatedly at the dark woods outside. He had definitely seen it. He couldn't be imagining it. A bright ghostly figure drifting through the trees, with dark matted hair and a bleached white skeletal arm. He had only caught sight of it for less than a second, just like in his dreams.

Victoria took hold of Victor's upper arm and looked him straight in the face. "Victor, what is it?"

Victor carried on looking at the forest, but he only saw shadows among the trees. Where had she gone?

"Victor?" she asked again, a bit more forcefully.

"It's…" Victor turned away from the window and rubbed his eyes groggily. "Gosh I'm tired. It's just my imagination."

"Are you sure?" asked Victoria uneasily

"Yes, I'm sure," Victor smiled at Victoria. She realized he really did look tired. "I just need to get some sleep." and with that he kissed Victoria on the forehead and ascended the stairs to his bed room; leaving Victoria alone to wonder. She wondered what on earth he had seen outside. What could have thrown him so much?

*****

Emily spun round and round in the centre of the glade. She held her face up to the sky and watched the stars and the moon spin and dissolve into one another as she got more and more dizzy; it was as if the sky had been painted in wet paint and God had smudged it with his fingers. The sky was so open and limitless, filled with the magic of the sun the moon and the heavens; Ever-changing and free to do as it pleased. Emily thought about how many living people were sitting under a ceiling right now when they could be out in the open, enjoying the most wondrous sight on the earth. The cruellest thing fate could do was deny the dead the sky, and it had.

The flock of crows that had come up with her flew smoothly over her head and over to the village. Emily remembered why she was up in the Land of the Living. She steadied herself and tried her best to stand up straight. Once she had stopped wobbling she looked at the village and tried to remember which house was Victor's. All she had to go on was that his parents were fish merchants, and Victoria was living with him. She pulled the hood of her new cloak over her face and began to walk over to the little gray village. The whole landscape was quiet and still except for the crows who were following Emily and cawing impatiently. Emily gestured to them to be quiet but they just ignored her and started to circle the square, making a horrible racket. Every light was out in the village except for one house which seemed to still be lit by fire light. And for some reason all of the crows decided to rest on the lit house's roof. Emily stood behind the looming statue of a horse in the middle of the town square and looked at the house the crows had chosen. There were two stone fish sculptures on the steps and a silhouette of a figure in its window. The shape was feminine and pear-shaped. Emily squinted at it for a moment before dashing behind the statue. The person in the window was Victoria. Emily held her back to the statue and cursed Victoria. Why was she still awake at this hour?

*****

Victoria watched as a ghostly figure in a white cloak made its way over to the village. Her face was covered by her hood and she was being pursued by about a half a dozen crows. The figure looked to Victoria to be unnatural and strange. The crows flew away from the figures side and glided around the square as if trying to seek something out. Their cawing echoed through the silent and empty village. The figure raised its head and held a long blue finger to its lips, as if trying to silence the crows. Victoria was unable to move, she stood frozen to the spot as she stared out of the window. The crows flew towards Victor and Victoria's house. Victoria was unsure whether the birds flew over the roof or rested on it, but ether way it caused the hooded figure to look straight at the house. She only looked at the house for a moment before scurrying behind the statue, but that was enough.

The curtains gave a harsh screech as Victoria closed them. Victoria had seen her face. The glowing blue skin with the big bright eyes. What was _she_ doing here now? The eve of Victor's wedding day. Why now?! It took all of Victoria's courage for her to move over to the front door. She wasn't gong to lie to herself; she was petrified of the corpse outside. Something about her was just _wrong_. The dead belonged in the ground. That was they way it was supposed to be. And now Victoria was going to face her, and protect her husband-to-be from the monster. Because that's what she was, that _thing_ outside. She is the stuff of nightmares, the things that keep children from sleeping at night.

Victoria opened the door with a soft click and stepped outside. Her muscles felt stiff and she was doing her best to stop herself from shaking. The corpse had come out from behind the statue and had taken her hood down. She had an empathetic but determined look on her face as she watched Victoria come closer to her. Victoria stopped a good two metres away from Emily. As she examined the corpse Victoria was overcome by feelings of revulsion and pity: Victoria stared at the places the girls flesh had rotted away to show her bones and the withered flowers in her tangled hair. It made her feel sick. To Victoria the fine clothes on Emily looked out of place, like rotten fruit in a beautifully painted bowl.

'Victor could only have married this creature out of pity,' thought Victoria as she prepared herself to speak.

"Emily, isn't it?" asked Victoria, doing her best not to stare at the hole in Emily's cheek.

"Yes," she replied in a softer voice than Victoria had expected. Emily was at a total loss for words; seeing Victoria was the last thing she had expected. All she could do was wait for Victoria to speak.

"I… know why you here," she held her arms by her side as she took a deep breath. "You've come to take him away again and I won't let you," Victoria didn't raise her voice but Emily could detect a strong undertone of disdain in it.

"It's not like-" began Emily, but Victoria cut across her.

"And… I don't want you to have false hope, just because he came down to see you last week, because that means nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." Victoria's words hit Emily hard. It felt as if someone were physically beating her over and over. She stood in front of her in polite silence waiting for the next fatal blow. Victoria's voice shook as she continued. "Victor and I, we're stronger than ever. We love each other very much. And I… feel I need to say this so you fully understand. He…" Victoria swallowed as if choking back tears before looking into Emily's eyes and saying: "He never loved you. So please just stop trying to-"

"I don't believe you," interrupted Emily, unable to contain herself any longer. "Victor loves me. You don't understand how he can love me, but he does and… that scares you," Emily's voice was shaking as tears flowed freely from her eyes.

"No. You're deluded and… pathetic for even thinking he ever could… love you," Victoria's voice shook not only with fear but with rage as well.

"What makes you so sure?" asked Emily. Her hands were shaking as she grasped her letter. "Why is it so hard for you to understand?"

"You're a wretch, he could only have been with you out of pity," Victoria didn't say it spitefully, but she said it truthfully. She truly believed what she said. Emily felt as if she had just been knocked to the floor, but she wasn't going to break that easily.

"Is that so?" said Emily with the hint of a laugh in her voice, even though she had been deeply hurt by Victoria's words "Well, while we're analyzing relationships, let's take a look at yours and Victors. You see, I don't think Victor could ever tell you, that he doesn't love you. He's just too kind hearted. He'd rather live with someone he doesn't love, for the rest of his life, than hurt them. And that's quite sad." Victoria looked as if she had just been slapped in the face.

"No." replied Victoria sharply. "The sad thing is, it really doesn't matter what you think. Because Victor and I, are getting married tomorrow."

Emily felt as if a trap door had opened underneath her. She felt a horrible jab of sickening surprise pierce her heat and flow through the rest of her body. She wanted to collapse on the floor and just weep; but she didn't, she had done enough crying and shed enough tears in her after life to know it doesn't help.

"You're wasting your time," continued Victoria "He's mine. You said it yourself. At the alter, you said he wasn't yours. You understood it than."

"I, don't, want, to, own, him." said Emily steadily. She was doing her best to contain her anger. She stretched out her skeletal arm, which was holding the letter, towards Victoria. "Please, give this to Victor. It's the only reason I came up hear."

Victoria didn't take it. Instead she asked "What is it?"

"If your relationship is so strong it won't matter. Please just give it to him," Emily wore a sorrowful smile as the tears dried on her face. Victoria, reluctantly, took the letter from her skeletal hand and examined it.

"I promise I won't intervene with the wedding tomorrow," said Emily as she fixed her cloak. Victoria held the letter tightly in her right hand. "But I'll be watching the ceremony from the woods."

"Alright," replied Victoria stiffly. And with that Emily turned gracefully and headed for the woods, her cloak billowing behind her.

**A/N ****Sorry that was a bit long, I can see an end in sight for this fan fiction. Please review!!! **


	15. Where we Reside

**A/N**** Mwa-ha-ha! I am the update Queen! Enjoy the chapter **CI:O)

Chapter 13

Victoria clasped the letter to her stomach as she watched Emily drift back to the woods, her cloak rippling in the light breeze. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt her muscles relax. It took a while for Victoria to digest what had just happened. She felt as if she where recovering from a sudden head rush. Her legs felt stiff as she walked slowly back into the house, being careful to close the door quietly. As Victoria entered the front room the fire light flickered and twitched as if it were flinching away from her. She sat in the comfiest chair and examined the letter. It was folded neatly and sealed with burgundy coloured wax. Why had that corpse come up from the underworld, just to give Victor this? It had to be important. It had to _mean _something.

"It's a love note," thought Victoria. "It has to be. What else could it be? A sick love note from a dead woman." A shiver ran through Victoria.

She caressed the smooth wax seal with her fingertips, and thought of all the secrets that one little piece of wax was holding. The letter could contain a long heartfelt letter or a short sweet sonnet. Either way it was for Victor. Would Victor be happy to hear it? Victor and Victoria had never spoken of the corpse bride. She knew nothing of what had happened between them. It was like that part of Victor's life was separate from Victoria, and she got the distinct impression that he wanted to keep it that way. She wished that she could understand it. She wished he could confide in her, like lovers were supposed to. Her and Victor were lovers, weren't they?

The first time Victoria had seen the corpse bride was when Victor had climbed up to her balcony on the night of their wedding rehearsal. Victor had seemed so terrified of the corpse back then, and they had both seemed very confused. But then, only a few hours later, he had been _willing_ to marry her. _Willing_ to die for her: it was as if she'd put a spell on him. And her spell seemed to be getting stronger as time passed on, like wine maturing. It was like watching an addiction develop in Victor; the longer he went without seeing her, the more depressed he got. Victoria felt as if she was losing him to her. And that was before the corpse had even tried to contact him! But she was never going to surrender Victor to her. Ever. She would fight this with everything she had. Every ounce of strength Victoria had would go into washing that damned woman out of Victor's thoughts. She would cleanse her out of him. Victoria scowled at the cursed letter, as you would scowl at a misbehaved child. And then, without thinking, she tossed the letter into the fire. The embers consumed the paper like the tide washing over the beach. Each tiny ember moving quickly across the white parchment, leaving a trail of blackened withered paper. Soon the charred paper began to close in on its self like a daisy closing at dusk, looking fragile and hurt. The bubbling burgundy wax oozed out of the centre of the burning letter as if it where wounded . Red wax dripped through the fire grate and became singed before the letter was reduced to ash and fell through the grate as well. The flames danced triumphantly over the remains of the letter before sinking back down to crackle in annoyance that the fun was over.

As Victoria watched the flames die down she felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach. The feeling began to grow and expand until it felt like it was churning her stomach. What had she done? How could she have been so selfish? Victor would never forgive her if he knew of what she had just done. Regardless of what Victoria thought of the corpse bride, the girl clearly meant a lot to Victor. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. The only honourable thing she could do now was to tell Victor exactly what happened. As Victoria recalled the events of that evening, a strong feeling of shame relentlessly kneaded at her insides. She shouldn't have been so cruel to the poor corpse.

Victoria ascended the stairs to hers and Victor's room. She lay awake in her bed all night staring at Victor's slumbering form. His breathing was steady and his expression was hidden behind a large bulge of white quilt. How was she going to explain all of this to him? How could she justify what she had done? Would there even be time tomorrow? It was going to be their wedding day.

All night Emily's voice echoed in Victoria's head, full and strident: "Victor loves me. You don't understand how he can love me, but he does and… that scares you,"

*****

A steadily thickening mist surrounded Emily as she walked through the forest. Even though she couldn't feel the cold she wrapped her arms around her torso, as if she were trying to hold herself together. The crows followed her, cawing softly. Remembering what Elder Gutknecht had said, Emily could tell that the crows were beginning to feel anxious. They wanted to go home, back to the Land of the Dead where it was safe and enclosed. It was strange to think of birds having agoraphobia, but Emily was sure that they felt it. Maybe the open sky reminded them of the havens, of death., of the end. Of the one big full stop.

They reached the glade with the oak tree and twisted thorns in it. The glade where Emily had died and where she had met Victor; the end and the beginning of the most significant things in Emily's existence. The snow was smooth and even, like icing on a wedding cake. She walked over to the oak tree and sank down on to the ground underneath it. The crows all perched on the tree's branches and looked down on Emily as she drew her legs up to her stomach and began to cry into her knees. She hated feeling so weak and pathetic. Why couldn't she be placid and independent? She'd been through so much, she thought that she would have grown stronger. But she hadn't, had she? Why had Victoria's words hurt her so much? She felt so foolish. She should have been expecting to see her, and she should have been expecting harsh words. If she were in Victoria's position she would have been protective over Victor, and a little hostile towards the 'other woman,' wouldn't she?

No, she wouldn't have been that cruel.

One of the crows cawed at Emily, checking if she was alright. She looked up at them with blotchy tear-stained cheeks.

"You don't like it up here, do you?" she croaked. The crows replied with a sad low caw. "You can go back if you want. There's not much point staying up here with me…" but the crows didn't leave. Instead they settled in the branches of the oak tree and looked over to the village. Emily smiled up at them, "Thank you. You're so kind… and brave. I wish I was like you." and with that she wrapped her silvery cloak around her skinny frame and gazed off into the distance. Her eyes fell on the church which was surrounded by mist.

"There's going to be a wedding tomorrow, in that church," announced Emily to the crows, she pointed to the church with her skeletal hand. "Did you hear _her _tell me?" the crows just shuffled their feathers looking uninterested, but Emily continued. "My wedding was going to be there. It was all going to be perfect. All my friends where there… and my husband… My husband loved me. You believe that, don't you? It's not that hard to understand." Emily could feel tears trying to push themselves out of her eye sockets; and she could feel her stomach sinking so low, she was surprised that she wasn't sinking into the ground. She tried to force back the memories of her 'Wedding night' but they were all coming back, thick and fast, in glorious high definition.

"I, mean… why wouldn't Victor, want to… marry, a…" Victoria's words whorled around Emily's mind and filled her head; soon they began to spill out of her mouth in one strained wail "… _a pathetic wretch."_

The crows watched her sob though out the night as the mist swept across the land getting thicker and thicker. The clouds thickened and multiplied spreading across the sky like a virus; they masked the stars and the moon like a veil and hid the sky away from the living. All they could do was wait until sunrise.


	16. Sunlight and Introspection

Chapter 14

The sun glared through the small window and into the vestry, lighting up its poorly whitewashed walls. Victor stood in front of a dull full length mirror; his reflection looked back at him with a look of utter hopelessness. This wedding had been planned far too quickly for Victor's liking. Why couldn't they have waited a bit longer? Victoria and his mother had gone into town, just yesterday, and bought his wedding outfit for him. He hadn't been best pleased when they presented it to him. It was a luxurious suit made of silver-grey material with a golden embroidered waistcoat and matching silken tie. Victor hated it, and felt very uncomfortable looking at himself wearing such a poncey getup. What on earth had possessed Victoria to buy this for him? As Victor fiddled with his cuffs he remembered the night he had came to this same church, to marry Emily; that had been planned rather quickly as well. But _he _had asked _her_ to marry him that time. And Emily was a very… spontaneous person. She hadn't expected anything of him, except for him to be there. There were no standards for him to live up to, no expectations.

She was so unlike Victoria. It was as though the two of them reflected the two different worlds. Emily was like the Land of the Dead; bright, bohemian and free. While Victoria resembled the Land of the Living; quiet, restrained and suppressed. Victor longed to go back to the Land of the Dead, and back to Emily. He had been ready to give his life to her. He had been ready to die for her, and then… She just couldn't do it. She felt too guilty taking his life, and leaving Victoria all alone. And then she had just, gone. Dissolved into butterflies and gone back to the Land of the Dead. Leaving Victor with Victoria. Not even asking him how he felt about her leaving. She had just _assumed _he would be happy with Victoria. Why hadn't Emily just asked him how he felt? How could she have just _left _him like that?

When she left it was like she had taken a part of him with her. A little but vital peace of him. He had tried searching for it in Victoria and in himself. He had dug deep to the bottom of his life looking for it; but still it remained lost. The problem was, Victor didn't even know what he was looking for, so how was he supposed to find it? The only explanation was that Emily had it. But she had replaced it with something. Something that wasn't his. It nestled in his ribcage and wrapped itself around his heart. When ever he thought of Emily it would radiate warmth through him and provoke a smile on his face; a smile Victoria thought was for her.

Victor felt like a prat. He looked like a prat. Victoria didn't deserve to be married to a dishonest prat. She deserved better than a lying coward of a husband. At that moment Victor thought to himself, "I should tell Victoria the truth, right now. Before this goes too far." But it had already gone too far, he could hear the towns' people entering the main hall of the church, ready for his wedding. If they called the wedding off now Victoria and the rest of Victor's family would be humiliated, in front of the whole town. Keeping up appearances had been Victoria's parents' top priority. Victor didn't know if Victoria's reputation meant anything to her, but he didn't feel like chancing it now. She would understand if he told her he thought this was all too overwhelming for him, wouldn't she? He straightened himself up in an attempt to give himself a bit more nerve. He was beginning to think it had worked, but when someone knocked on the door his precariously balanced false hope, self belief and courage toppled to the floor.

*****

Sunlight lit up every crevice of the dreary gray village that steeped in fog. Emily had watched the white cloudy fog rising and thickening for hours. She stood right on the edge of the forest, behind a tall strong tree. The crows where perched on its stubby branches, huddled close together as they stared at the church. Emily tried to stick to the shadows, so people wouldn't see her, and so she couldn't see herself. She had never seen her dead self in the sunlight. The moonlight flattered her tremendously; it made her blue skin look luminous and shadowed the holes and breaks all over her body nicely. But the sun wasn't so kind. It glared down on her as if it where angry at her for getting away with it; for not knowing how ugly she was. The light made her complexion look a horrid blue-grey and her bones look a nicotine tinged yellow, instead of their usual bleached white. Even though it was bright, the air was still icy. The ground was covered in sparkling frost that cling to every blade of grass or grain of soil, making the ground ruff and hard. The Land of the Living wasn't in a welcoming mood today.

Earlier in the day Emily had seen Victor walk across the village and over to the chapel. She had watched him with her heart in her mouth. He had looked so miserable; every step seemed to take tremendous effort. His head was bent low as if his thoughts where a heavy weight on his shoulders. Emily wondered if Victor had read her letter. She sincerely hoped that her words hadn't made him look that dismal. She wasn't sure whether she wanted Victor to see her or not: she desperately wanted to see him, but she didn't want _him_ to see _her _in the sunlight_, _when she was at her most repulsive. Because that was how she felt, repulsive. She was sure that Victoria's words last night had prompted this; so see tried her best to overcome it.

Thoughts of bursting into the vestry to see Victor had occurred and reoccurred in Emily's mind. She had been sorely tempted to act on them, but she had promised Victoria she wouldn't interfere with the wedding. Even so, the apprehension was unbearable. Every minute seemed to drag on and on, as if it were clinging on to existence for dear life. It was so frustrating, Emily wanted to scream out loud and scare away the remainder of time that stretched out in front of her.

After many hours of waiting Emily witnessed large number of people arrive at the church. None of them looked particularly happy or exited. They seemed bored and lifeless: Didn't they know they where going to a wedding?

After most of the drained looking citizens arrived at the church the bride followed them. She walked with an old man who looked like he could be Victor's father. Victoria's dress was so solid looking; she looked more like the wedding cake than the bride. Her medium length veil was held on her head by a small crown. Her heart shaped face was framed by the only two curls that had been aloud to escape from her tightly pinned back hair. She held her bouquet above her waist. It was full to bursting point with voluptuous white roses and lilies; their petals where as full and healthy looking as Victoria's skin. As she walked she gazed down at her bouquet her expression was an unreadable mixture of pride and dread. Emily didn't think she looked very pretty. She couldn't help wondering if she thought that out of bitterness.

When Victoria entered the church the heavy wooden doors were closed swiftly behind her. When the doors closed their muffled boom echoed though the land, spreading and fading. As it hit Emily, she flinched. She stared at the vestry door fixatedly; she wasn't sure how much longer she could bear this suspense.


	17. Tear the Petals off of You

**A/N**** Yes, I know that the chapter title is a Hole quote. It's from the song "Asking for it" I think the exact quote is "I will tear the petals off of you. Rose Red I will make you tell the truth." I don't claim to own it anyway.**

Chapter 15

The knock sounded again, soft and patient, on the other side of the door.

"… Come in." said Victor nervously, as he craned his head at and angle, so as to see the person as soon as possible when they opened the door.

With a gentle creak the door opened to reveal Victoria standing in its frame, smiling timidly at him. She was wearing a little too much make up and her dress was very plain, but she still looked pretty in a tidy and perfected sort of way. Her posture was confident as she stepped smoothly into the room. Victor was quite shocked to see her.

"Victoria, I, umm. I d-didn't think…" Victor stammered as he gathered his thoughts. "I'm not s-supposed to see you before the wedding…" Victor fiddled with his cuffs as he spoke to her.

"You…" Victoria looked at Victor with a sad expression. He had never once called her beautiful, but she had expected him to say it on their wedding day. Or was that just too much to expect of him? Victoria spoke steadily "You were supposed to be in the church hall fifteen minutes ago. You're father just led me up the aisle to an empty alter." she said with minimal emotion.

"I'm so sorry!" he said getting panicked. Victor had genuinely forgotten to check the clock "I really am." He tidied his suit briskly as he rushed out of the door. When he realised that Victoria wasn't following him he turned round to look at her.

"We really should…" he trailed off. He stood hesitantly in the doorway. He sensed something was wrong. Victoria stood in the vestry, her head bowed. The stillness and sorrow of her form was not unlike that of a graveyard statue. Victor moved cautiously towards her.

"Victoria, are you alright?"

"I…" she raised her head. She looked troubled, as if she were expecting someone to creep up behind her. "Last night you saw something in the woods, didn't you?"

Victor looked back at her with a vexed expression. He wasn't sure whether to tell her he'd seen something or not; he decided it was best to be honest.

"Yes, I did… something bright."

"Well I…" Victoria paused for a few long moments and took a deep breath "We've never really spoken about… Emily, have we?" she said Emily's name with the reluctance of a child eating their least favourite vegetable.

"N-no, we haven't." replied Victor, taken aback.

"Why is that?" she asked with suppressed emotion and curiosity.

"I…" Victor felt as if he were surrounded by sharp shards of broken glass; one wrong move and he would get hurt. He was trapped. He hadn't been expecting this at all. "I don't know."

"Have you wanted to talk about her?" asked Victoria. She was finding it more and more difficult to restrain her emotions; but she managed to keep calm.

"I…" Victor kept telling himself not to lie. He would be the brave and honest man he longed to be. "I guess I have."

"Why didn't you?" she asked, trying to be as serine as possible.

"I don't know. Shouldn't we be getting to the…?" Victor was beginning to shake from stress and uneasiness.

"Do you want to get married?" she said quickly

"Don't you?" replied Victor with a little exasperation. He wished that she would just say whatever it was she had to say. Victoria seemed to read this in his expression.

"Last night, I… began to see things a little more clearly. I've started to understand a little more." Victor just blinked back at her, so she continued. "I had wondered why you had been distant with me over the past two months; your mind always seemed to be somewhere else. It was like you were just, waiting to get back to something more important. Like you were disappointed. But now I've made sense of it." Victoria lightly caressed the petals of one of her white roses; she wasn't really looking at Victor as she spoke. "She's put a spell on you, hasn't she? That's why you've been having those nightmares."

Victor gawped at her. He didn't fully understand what she was trying to say. "… What?"

She looked up at him. "She's still got some kind of hold over you. I can see that now. I don't claim to understand it, but… I can see it."

"I… don't understand. Who do you mean?"

"Emily, the corpse." Victoria couldn't believe how dense Victor was being.

"Please don't call her that…" was all Victor could bring himself to say.

"I'm right though, aren't I? You still think about her. All this time you've just been pining for her like some sad puppy that misses its master." Victor could detect the disgust in Victoria's voice now.

"Why are you saying all this?" he asked feebly.

"You still love her don't you?" she said forcefully. Victor turned sharply away from her, as if trying to dodge her words. "I'm right aren't I? All this time, and you never said anything." Victor still didn't say anything. His insides where squirming with shame, as if they where cringing for him. "Ugh! It's sick!" Victoria grimaced as she moved across the room and placed her bouquet on the table. "One of the worst things is that she _sensed_ that something was wrong; after spending only a few hours with you. And _I've_ spent about two months _living with you_ and I picked up on, nothing. Why didn't you tell me you weren't happy?" Victoria was about to continue but Victor cut across her.

"How did you know that 'she sensed something'" he asked looking suspicious.

"She…" Victoria suddenly felt guilty "I saw her last night in the village."

"She was in the village? What happened?" Victor's voice went a little higher with shock. Emily had been right on his door step and he hadn't noticed.

"We… we argued." Victoria was beginning to look uncomfortable.

"What? Why would you argue?" he asked sharply.

"She wanted to give you a love note! A _love_ note! What did you expect me to do?!" Victor didn't have an answer for that; he shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject.

"What did she say? Was she alright?"

"I'm not answering those questions until you answer mine." she said sternly. "Do you love her?"

"Please, just-"

"Victor, do you love that corpse?!" Victoria cried, getting frustrated and impatient.

"Yes!" blurted Victor. Victoria flinched. Victor had said the word as if he had been trying to hold it in and force it out at the same time. "I do, love her, with all my heart." his voice and body were shaking uncontrollably. Victor examined Victoria's expression closely "You don't understand it , do you?"

"No, I don't. I think it's just… wrong." she said steadily, as if she felt nauseous. "She's dead Victor-"

"I know that-"

"I don't think you do. I think you've forgotten that the _living_ and the _dead_ are surposed to be separate." She gave him a superiour icy stare as she continued. "Haven't you noticed how many bones she has popping out, and how rotten her skin-"

"Yes I have." said Victor, his voice ceased shaking. "And I think she looks beautiful-" Victoria interrupted him with a disapproving grimace, as if he had gone into too much detail about something distasteful.

"Can you hear yourself?!" Her voice was rising. Victor was sure that they could hear them in the main hall of the church. "This isn't love you're feeling! It's a mixture of fascination and pity, nothing more!"

"How would you know?"Asked Victor getting irradiated with Victoria's condescending attitude.

"Because I've _seen_ her! Actually seen her for what she really is!" Victoria was beginning to look distressed. She looked as if she was worried for Victor, not angry, worried. "She's a lonely sad creature who can't accept the fact that you could be happier with someone else. And I understand how you could pity her but-"

"I don't pity her." Victor cut across her, more confident than before. "Why would I pity her? She's a wonderful honest person who… Who I can never mesure up to."

"She just wants to drag you down with her-"

"You're not listening to me!" interrupted Victor as he swiftly rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"Because you don't know what you're saying." she said in patronising tone that suggested that she knew more about the situation than he did.

"Yes I do; you just don't understand-"

"I don't want to understand, this, this notion you have in your head!" exploded Victoria. Tears were beginning to swell at the corners of her eyes. "You think you love a dead woman." Victor was about to say something but Victoria cut across him. "But you can't love her. Only a very sick man could love her. But…" her voice was cracking as large full tears began rolling down her cheeks. She was no longer shouting. "I know you're not a sick man. You can't be. You're my Victor; my fiancé and I… love you with every part of what I am. You're sweet and, and loving and… I really want to make you happy. I want you to be proud of me; to be proud to call me your wife. I want to, cook you meals and raise you children and… and hold you tight on stormy nights. I want to be thing that makes you glad to still be alive. But I… just can understand _this_ part of you." Her face was wet as she stared into Victor's eyes. He drew closer to her, unsure what to do. It was like watching an injured young animal; you want to help it but you daren't touch it, in case you make it worse. She continued talking through her sobs. "Victor please tell me, tell me truthfully, that you can change. That you can get rid of _that_ part of you. Tell me you want to fix it."

Victor raised his hand to wipe away her tears. "I can't…" he croaked.

"Don't you want to?" she sobbed. She was leaning up againsed the wall now and Victor was very close to her.

"…No." he said softly. And then, without warning, she pushed him away forcefully by shoving her bouquet into his face, causing him to topple backwards. The tightly packed bouquet fell apart littering the floor of the vestry with white roses and lilies. For a split second before the flowers fell, Victor caught a glipse of an inky black ant within the petal corridors of one of the roses; it was scowling at him. When he hit the floor he stared helplessly up at Victoria who was now shrieking at him to leave.

"Just go! Leave if you don't want to change! I'm sure that your corpse bride will welcome you with open arms!" She was pointing towards the back door of the vestry that led outside and into the graveyard. "Go on! _Your beloved _is waiting in the forest!" She said in a mocking tone. Victor felt a strong feeling of shame and guilt bubble in his stomach. He had done this. He had turned her into this distraught mess of a bride.

"Victoria…" Victor began.

"GO!" she almost roared.

At that point Pastor Galswells burst into the room. Victor scrabbled to his feet and stood beside Victoria. He had always found The Pastor intimidating. Victor felt as if the Pastor's bloodshot eyes where burning a hole in him. He towered over the two of them with his swirled staff in his right hand and the bible in his left.

"Master Van Dort, your constant dawdling is trying my patience. We must start the ceremony immediately." when he noticed the state of the room and the look on Victoria's face his irritated expression disappeared and was replaced by alarm. "What on earth…"

"The wedding's off." exclaimed Victoria fearlessly. She turned to Victor. "Victor prefers less holey alliences." she growled.

The wedding guests were beginning to crowd the corridor leading to the vestry behind Pastor Galswells. They looked hungry, as if they could tell that something was wrong and they wanted to eat up the story. All eyes where on Victor, burnig tiny little holes in him. He could think of no way to explain all of what had happened.

"What do you mean by 'unholy alliences' Miss Everglott?" Asked Pastor Galswells.

"I told you before and you wouldn't listen," replied Victoria plainly. This was met by a curious murmur from the crowd. They all looked at him for an answer. An answer he didn't have.

So once again, in a moment of panic, Victor desprately fled. He dashed out of the back vestry door and disappeared into the dense white fog.


	18. On the Bridge

Chapter 16 

Victor ran as fast as he could though the snowy white fog. He didn't look back. He knew he could never go back, Victoria had seen to that. She hated him, and loved him at the same time. She was so complex and confusing to him, frustratingly so. Every time he spoke to her it was like dealing with a piece of broken machinery; it would seem to be working and running smoothly at first but then it would abruptly break down, leaving Victor to wonder why he had tried to work it in the first place. Victoria had been so meek when they had first met. He would never have guessed that she would be screaming at him on their wedding day. But then again, he wouldn't have thought that he'd be pining for a corpse on his wedding day. What a funny old life this was turning out to be.

Truth be told, Victor didn't want to go back. He had been dreading his marriage to Victoria. He hated the idea of being stuck in that dreary little village, watching himself grow old with Victoria. The very thought of it made him feel… empty and gloomy. But he didn't have to put himself though that now. And he felt so, thankful. He was so glad that Victoria had forced it out of him. He loved Emily, and now the whole village knew; or at least they would know soon. Victor felt a twinge of guilt pierce his heart and made it feel heavy: He had left Victoria to face the village and their questions alone. But what had she expected him to do? Stand up in front of the whole community, including his parents, and tell them that he was… infatuated with a dead woman. They would have thought he was mad. It wouldn't matter that she was a talented and kind woman. The only thing they would care about, was that he loved a corpse. They wouldn't have understood. Maybe it was too much to expect of someone. Too much to expect of Victoria.

But still, the honourable thing to do would have been to tell them himself, and spare Victoria the humiliation…

Victor pushed all thoughts of the village out of his mind, and let thoughts of Emily run riot in his head. He had been suppressing them for so long, it was such a relief to set them free. Each and every fibre of his being was rejoicing as thoughts of Emily ran though Victor's body like warm water over strained muscles, soothing him from the inside out.

Victor stopped at the edge of the bridge and regained his breath. A muffled yell sounded from the church, not a painful yell but and angry yell. He didn't allow himself to turn and look back at the church: All he wanted to do now was find Emily. As he looked up at the forest a dark shape caught his eye. He could only make out the tall slender silhouette through the mist. His heart rose and he began to smile.

"Emily?" he called out as he ran on to the bridge; not shivering as he usually did.

"Victor," Emily's soft voice sounded from deep in the mist as her form materialized before Victor's eyes, like dark ink spreading across white paper. She wore a worried expression as she glided on to the bridge and over to Victor. She was about to say something but before she could open her mouth Victor caught her in a tight hug. He held her so closely, she could hear his heart fluttering against hid rib cage. The sound of his heart beat was so rhythmic and calming; to Emily it was the most beautiful sound in the world. She squeezed him back for a moment then tore her ear away from his chest.

"Victor, are you alright? I herd screaming…" Victor looked down at her. Her face was wet and her skin was cold in his hands. How long had she been in the forest? "What happened?" She asked as her eyes travelled down his body checking if he was hurt.

"Victoria… She cancelled the wedding." said Victor, as if it were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Why?" asked Emily, looking perplexed.

"Because I… because I don't love her."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes." he replied, grinning at her.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked gingerly.

"Because I've tried to love her, I really have. But…"

"But…?"

"She just wasn't…" Victor trailed off. He didn't know how to finish his sentence. So he changed the subject. "What are you doing up here? How long have you been in the forest?"

"I… came to see you last night. I wanted to give you something but…" she stopped. She didn't want to 'tell tales' on Victoria, or mention their argument. Victor seemed to see this in her face.

"Victoria did mention a note."

"Did she give it to you?" she asked eagerly.

"No. What did it say?" He asked, mirroring her curiosity.

"Oh, it doesn't matter." She replied looking embarrassed. Then she realised that Victor had purposefully changed the subject. "What happened in the church?" she asked pressingly.

"Victoria and I talked," Victor paused "…and she got angry-"

"Why?" interrupted Emily "This is what I don't understand. Is it because I… Did I cause this?" she looked back at him, as if she thought she'd done something wrong. Victor's stomach began to sink with shame. This whole situation was his fault, and there was no point trying to denying it.

"All of this, it's all… Because I'm an idiot," he said looking away form her and blinking back tiny tears, but still trying to hold the smile on his face "Because I won't express my feelings, or help the people close to me when they need it most…" Emily moved closer to him.

"Victor that's not true. You're-"

"Yes it is, because… all this time, I've said nothing…" He looked back at Emily who was gazing up at him with a look of sincere concern. Victor looked deep into her eyes, everything around them seemed to just disappear, and dissolve into nothingness. Nothing else mattered, except for Emily. All this time he'd been trying to make himself fall in love with Victoria, but his efforts had been in vain. And now he knew why.

"Emily I…" Victor swallowed nervously "I love you."

Emily gawped up at him, speechless "What?"

"I love you. I always have, but I just couldn't tell you…" He stroked a few stray curls from her face. Even though she was smiling back at him, her eyes were full of tears. "And I, know I should have told you sooner. I should of told you on that night in the church, but… I was just, so overwhelmed. I thought you wanted to be free…" Victor's eyes began to swell with tears as well.

"I thought so too. I thought you wanted to be free, to be with Victoria." Emily caught one of Victor's tears with her bony finger. "All the time you were with me, I felt like I was just borrowing you. I didn't think… you'd ever want to see me again."

"How could you think that?" he asked taking her hand and running his thumb over her skeletal knuckles.

"Victor, you," Emily paused and began to look shamefaced "You nearly killed yourself. You nearly severed yourself from the Land of the Living. And I couldn't understand why anyone would do that for me. I felt like I'd tricked or cheated you somehow."

"You didn't!" He squeezed her hand "I wanted to go through with it. I really did. When you took me down to the Land of the Dead, it was like a breath of fresh air. Everything down there was so, relaxed and happy. I'd never been anywhere like that. And when you left it was like, that whole wonderful world had been shut off from me. And I missed it so badly… I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." She squeezed his hand back and rested her head back on his chest, letting the beat of his heart fill her head once more; soft and slow like thick liquid. Victor put his arms around her torso and gently drew her as close as possible. The undecided whispers and chatters of the river beneath them filled the air, as if they could hear the water's thoughts. Rising mist embraced them both; blocking out the harsh rays of sunlight and the prying eyes of the living. It made their own personal bubble. Emily couldn't remember the last time she had felt so complete, whole, happy or loved. Her complete existence had never had a more perfect moment, and Victor had made it happen.

"Victor, I really love you." She spoke so quietly Victor could barely hear her. "Every moment after that night at the church, I've been trying not to think of you. Because every time I did, I'd want to see you again, and I knew I couldn't. And I was certain you didn't want to see me… But you were at the root of every thought in my head; like a small piece of you was imbedded inside my mind, and it wanted me to listen to it." She brought both of her hands up from his and rested them over his heart. As she looked up at him her expression changed to one of complete elation "I know I can be without you but, my goodness, everything is so much better when you're here. And I never want to leave you, ever again!" And with that she threw her arms around his neck causing him to stumble off balance. As Victor spun Emily round her skirts swooshed in the breeze and wrapped themselves around his skinny form.

They were both laughing through streams of tears; totally overwhelmed by everything that had happened that day.

"Look at the two of us." exclaimed Victor wiping fresh tears from is already soaked face. "We're both crying when we should be so happy."

"I know!" said Emily, still laughing. "It's this place. It used to be so magical, but now it seems like… it doesn't like me anymore. It's like it's trying to get rid of me." Victor drew her closer again in a one armed hug.

"It hasn't been all that welcoming with me recently ether." He smiled tenderly at her as he placed his free hand under her chin and gently leaned in to kiss her. But before he could get close enough, Emily placed one blue finger on his lips.

"Victor, there's an ant on your face." She giggled, brushing away the tear-drowned ant. Victor went a light shade of pink, but before he could apologise for the insect Emily launched into a kiss with lavish enthusiasm. The thin layer of cold melted from her lips when they pressed against Victor's, like the white layer of ice on an ice lolly. He shivered a not entirely unpleasant shiver and kissed her back. All of their worries and insecurities seemed to dissolve and evaporate, leaving them completely at peace. After a few moments Victor smoothly drew away form her, gasping slightly for breath (she seemed to have forgotten that he needed to breathe.) As he inhaled deeply he noticed Emily's smell for the first time; it was the sweet aroma of dried flowers, it seemed to dance around his nostrils and get lodged in hid head.

"Are you alright?" asked Emily grinning uncontrollably as she held him in her embrace.

"Yes, I'm fine." he replied resting his forehead on hers. "Are… Would you like to go back to the Land of the Dead?"

"I'd love to." She said cheerfully. They both turned their heads towards the forest, where the crows where waiting for them impatiently in one of the tree's branches. The two of them nodded to each other before shouting: "Hopscotch!"

The crows swiftly glided towards them, cutting though the fog as if their wings were razor sharp. In seconds Victor and Emily were enclosed by sleek black crow feathers, beaks and claws.

**A/N**** My gosh, that was soppy. It took me ages as well, I never thought I'd write a soppy chapter, ever. Oh well, it wasn't entirely uncalled for. Was it? If you see any problems or you were annoyed that something did/ didn't happen then tell me and I'll change it (maybe…) Reviews are very, very, very much appreciated so Please review!!! **


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